e was
free to do what she wished; it would be easy to dispose of it. After
debate she refused him. This was six years ago; and until he saw me no
thought of love had refreshed his heart. On that night at Miss
Kingsley's, when he saw me for the first time and before he knew of my
father's wealth, he loved me, he said, almost without knowing it; but
from the moment of hearing the words that warned him of the barrier
between us, he had striven to drive my image from his thoughts. Ever
since, with all the might and resolution of which he was capable, he had
struggled against his love, but in vain. He had tried to avoid my
presence; he had resisted the temptation to become my teacher at the
time I consulted him on the subject; and subsequently, when we were
brought into constant contact at the rooms of the society, he had
offended his own sense of politeness by the reserve of his behavior
toward me. But, despite all this, he had felt the ground gradually
slipping from beneath his feet. A chance look or smile nullified in an
instant the self-denial of weeks. He had been many times already on the
verge of an avowal. He had seen and heard from others of the intimacy
between Mr. Barr and me, and been tortured by the pangs of jealousy. But
the events of yesterday had made it impossible for him to remain silent
any longer. He loved me with all the fervor of his heart, and it was
vain for him to deny it.

He paused, but I remained silent. Spoken in his soft melodious voice his
words seemed to soothe me, by way of contrast to the storm of passion I
had listened to so recently. I did not try to think. I felt that he had
not finished, and I wished to hear him to the end. Perhaps I was
conscious, too, that it would be impossible for me to come to a decision
on the spot.

One circumstance, he continued, had given him hope that I might feel
ready to make the sacrifice he asked, provided that I returned his
love,--and that was the earnest spirit of interest I had shown in the
work he had undertaken. There was no one among his followers who seemed
so completely zealous, and who had so unreservedly labored for the cause
of Moderation, as I. If, then, my heart by chance were interested in the
founder as well as in the system, it might seem no very serious matter
to disclaim the wealth I should inherit from my father. It appeared to
him that a nature like mine might find a higher and more entire
happiness in the pursuit of ideal truth than