full of affairs of my own. I thought at one time that my friends
were forsaking me. It was very good of you to write as you did."

Upon which there followed another little pause. "Indeed the goodness
was all on your side," said Lucy, faltering. "If I had ever dreamt how
much you were doing for us! but it all came upon me so suddenly. It is
impossible ever to express in words one-half of the gratitude we owe
you," she said, with restrained enthusiasm. She looked up at him as
she spoke with a little glow of natural fervour, which brought the
colour to her cheek and the moisture to her eyes. She was not of the
disposition to give either thanks or confidence by halves; and even
the slight not unpleasant sense of danger which gave piquancy to this
interview, made her resolute to express herself fully. She would not
suffer herself to stint her gratitude because of the sweet suspicion
which would not be quite silenced, that possibly Mr Wentworth looked
for something better than gratitude. Not for any consequences, however
much they might be to be avoided, could she be shabby enough to
refrain from due acknowledgment of devotion so great. Therefore, while
the Perpetual Curate was doing all he could to remind himself of his
condition, and to persuade himself that it would be utterly wrong and
mean of him to speak, Lucy looked up at him, looked him in the face,
with her blue eyes shining dewy and sweet through tears of gratitude
and a kind of generous admiration; for, like every other woman, she
felt herself exalted and filled with a delicious pride in seeing that
the man of her unconscious choice had proved himself the best.

The Curate walked to the window, very much as Mr Proctor had done, in
the tumult and confusion of his heart, and came back again with what
he had to say written clear on his face, without any possibility of
mistake. "I must speak," said the young man; "I have no right to
speak, I know; if I had attained the height of self-sacrifice and
self-denial, I might, I would be silent--but it is impossible now." He
came to a break just then, looking at her to see what encouragement he
had to go on; but as Lucy did nothing but listen and grow pale, he had
to take his own way. "What I have to say is not anything new," said
the Curate, labouring a little in his voice, as was inevitable when
affairs had come to such a crisis, "if I were not in the cruelest
position possible to a man. I have only an empty love to lay at