s impossible. You ask me to do more than I can. And I know very well
that you only make the offer out of charity. Even from you I cannot
accept charity."

"My earnest wish is to make you happy."

"And I know you would sacrifice yourself willingly for that; but I can
sacrifice myself, too. You think that if we got married love might
arise; but it wouldn't. You would feel perpetually that I was a reproach
to you; you would hate me."

"I should never do that."

"How can you tell? We are the same age now, but each year I should seem
older. At forty I should be an old woman, and you would still be a young
man. Only the deepest love can make that difference endurable; but the
love would be all on my side--if _I_ had any then. I should probably
have grown bitter and ill-humoured. Ah, no, Jamie, you know it is
utterly impracticable. You know it as well as I do. Let us part
altogether. I give you back your word. It is not your fault that you do
not love me. I don't blame you. One gets over everything in this world
eventually. All I ask you is not to trouble too much about me; I shan't
die of it."

She stretched out her hand, and he took it, his eyes all blurred, unable
to speak.

"And I thank you," she continued, "for having come to me frankly and
openly, and told me everything. It is still something that you have
confidence in me. You need never fear that I shall feel bitter towards
you. I can see that you have suffered--perhaps more than you have made
me suffer. Good-bye!"

"Is there nothing I can do, Mary?"

"Nothing," she said, trying to smile, "except not to worry."

"Good-bye," he said. "And don't think too ill of me."

She could not trust herself to answer. She stood perfectly quiet till he
had gone out of the room; then with a moan sank to the floor and hid her
face, bursting into tears. She had restrained herself too long; the
composure became intolerable. She could have screamed, as though
suffering some physical pain that destroyed all self-control. The heavy
sobs rent her chest, and she did not attempt to stop them. She was
heart-broken.

"Oh, how could he!" she groaned. "How could he!"

Her vision of happiness was utterly gone. In James she had placed the
joy of her life; in him had found strength to bear every displeasure.
Mary had no thought in which he did not take part; her whole future was
inextricably mingled with his. But now the years to come, which had
seemed so bright and sunny, turned sudd