, "do not tempt me! I am weak. I am nothing. Do
not; do not!"

"Tempt you? No, no!" cried Lord Chetwynde, feverishly. "Do not say
so. I ask you only to save me from despair."

He rose to his feet as he said this, and stood by her, still holding
that hand which he would not relinquish. And the one who watched them
in her agony saw an anguish as intense as hers in that quivering
frame which half shrank away from Lord Chetwynde, and half advanced
toward him; in those hands, one of which was held in his, while the
other was clasped to her heart; and in Lord Chetwynde himself, who,
though he stood there before her, yet stood trembling from head to
foot in the frightful agitation of the hour. All this Hilda saw, and
as she saw it she learned this--that all the hopes which she had ever
formed of winning this man to herself were futile and baseless and
impossible. In that moment they faded away; and what was left? What?
Vengeance!

Suddenly Lord Chetwynde roused himself from the struggle that raged
within him. It was as though he had resolved to put an end to all
these conflicts with himself. He dragged Zillah toward him. Wildly
and madly he seized her. He flung his arms about her, and pressed her
to his heart.

"My love! my darling!" he exclaimed, in low tones that were broken,
and scarce audible in the intensity of his emotion, "you can not--you
will not--you dare not refuse me!"

Zillah at first was overwhelmed by this sudden outburst. But soon, by
a mighty effort, she seemed to gain control over herself. She tore
herself away, and staggered back a few paces.

"Spare me!" she gasped. "Have pity! have mercy! If you love me, I
implore you by your love to be merciful! I am so weak. As you hope
for heaven, spare me!"

She was trembling violently, and her words were scarcely coherent. At
the deep and piteous entreaty of her voice Lord Chetwynde's heart
was touched. With a violent effort he seemed to regain his
self-control. A moment before he had been possessed of a wild,
ungovernable passion, which swept all things away. But now this was
succeeded by a calm, and he stood for a time silent.

"You will forgive me," he said at last, sadly. "You are more noble
than I am. You do right to refuse me. My request seems to you like
madness. Yes, you are right to refuse, even though I go into despair.
But listen, and you will see how it is. I love you, but can never win
you, for there is a gulf between us. You may have suspected