ut have known how devoutly
the poor fond beating heart loved him at that moment, he would, rustic
though he was, have fallen at her feet, and entreated her forgiveness.
Doubtless it was better as it was, for if men could see into women's
hearts, I very much fear their reliance on their own power would
increase, and _that_ would be neither pleasant nor profitable to
themselves or others; the very existence of love often depends on its
uncertainty. Some evil star at that moment shed its influence over
them, for Edward Lynne, catching at Rose's words, answered,

"You need not, I assure you, entertain your cousin with an account of
how I grieve; and remember, believe me, I take good care to prevent
any woman's caprice from having power over me a second time."

"You do quite right," replied Rose--"quite right." They walked on
together until they arrived within sight of the cottage door, but
neither spoke.

"I have a great deal to do--much to prepare. I must wish you
good-night. Good-bye, and a kinder--temper." She faltered.

"Going," said Edward--"going away in such haste; and to part thus.
There must be some mistake. I have watched you narrowly, suspiciously,
as men do who have been once deceived; and I have seen no trace
of unwomanly ambition in you; I little thought you would, on the
slightest hint, so willingly embrace the first opportunity of entering
into the sphere I thought you dreaded--as I do."

"I told you Helen was ill."

"A megrim--a whim--a"--

"You do her wrong; she has been a mother, and her child is dead."

"A blow to her ambition," said Edward, so coldly that Rose (such is
human nature) breathed more freely. Was it possible, then--_could_ it
be possible--that his feelings had been excited not by the remembrance
of Helen, but the thought of her own departure? Yet still her simple
sense of justice urged her to say, "Again you do her wrong; Helen has
a great deal of feeling."

"For herself," he answered tersely, "I dare say she has."

"I did not think you could be so unjust and ungenerous," replied Rose;
"but you are out of sorts to-night, and will be sorry before morning.
You were always hasty, Edward. Good-night--good-bye."

"Good-bye, then, Rose--good-bye;" and without taking her hand, without
one kind word, one sign of love, Edward Lynne rushed through the
garden gate and disappeared.

Rose entered the little parlour, which of late had been well cared
for. The old sofa, though as stiff and h