ut my home,' she said. 'You know that we
are very poor.'

She could not say it as simply as she wished; she was angry with herself
to recognise how nearly her feeling was one of shame, what a long habit
of reason it needed to expel the unintelligent prejudice which the world
bestows at birth.

'I could almost say I am glad of it,' Wilfrid replied. 'We shall have it
in our power, you and I, to help so much.'

'There are many reasons,' she continued, too much occupied with her
thoughts to dwell on what he said, 'why I should have time to prepare my
father and mother. You will let me write the things which it is not very
easy to say.'

'Say what you will, and keep silence on what you will, Emily. I cannot
give so much consequence to these external things. You and I are living
souls, and as such we judge each other. Shall I fret about the
circumstances in which chance has cased your life? As reasonable if I
withdrew my love from you because one day the colour of your glove did
not please me. Time you need. You shall have it; a week, ten days. Then
I will come myself and fetch you,--or you shall come to London alone, as
you please.'

'Let it be till your father returns.'

'But he will be two months away.'

'You will join him in Switzerland. Your health requires it.'

'My health! Oh, how tired I am of that word! Spare it me, you at least,
Emily. I am well in body and mind; your love would have raised me if I
had lain at the point of death. I cannot leave England alone; I have
made up my mind that you shall go with me. Have I then no power to
persuade you? You will not indeed refuse?'

He looked at her almost in despair. He had not anticipated more than the
natural hesitancy which he would at once overcome by force of passion.
There was something terrible to him in the disclosure of a quiet force
of will equal to his own. Frustration of desire joined with irritated
instincts of ascendency to agitate him almost beyond endurance.

Emily gazed at him with pleading as passionate as his own need.

'Do you distrust me?' he asked suddenly, overcome with an intolerable
suspicion. At the same moment he dropped her hand, and his gaze grew
cold.

'Distrust you?' She could not think that she understood him.

'Do you fear to come to London with me?'

'Wilfrid?'

Her bosom heaved with passionate resentment of his thought.

'Is _that_ how you understand my motives?' she asked, with tremulous,
subdued earnestness, fixing