en manifold, and before
whom ruin is grimly yawning even now, how could I act otherwise,
consistently with the duty of a son? Nay, what manhood would there have
been in consigning you to such a fate as awaited penniless wife of mine?

"I did not think of these things, did not know them even, when we first
met, and when I told you of my sudden passion I was sincere, Evelyn,
then, as I am now, for it is unchanged, and you know that it is so.

"When the dark necessity was laid bare to me, and I felt it my duty to
cancel our engagement, you bore it bravely, you kept my counsel, you
assisted me in my projects; you proved yourself all that was noble and
magnanimous in woman. What marvel, then, that I more than ever loved
you, and wished the obstacle removed that divides us, and yearn for my
lost happiness now dearer to me than before, only to be renewed through
you, Evelyn! that I still adore!--woman most beautiful, most beloved!"

"Claude, this is mockery; release my hand; arise, this position becomes
you not, nor yet me. Go! I am lost to you forever! your own cowardice,
your own weak worship of expediency, have been your real obstacles. For
your sake I was willing to brave poverty, debt, expatriation. It was you
who preferred the dross of gold, and the indulgence of your own luxury
and that of the sybarite, your father, to the passionate affection I
bore you. It is too late now for regret or recrimination. Go, I command
you! accomplish your destiny; continue to beguile Miriam with the tale
of your affection, and in return reap your harvest of deluded affection
and golden store from her! and from me receive your guerdon of scorn.
For I, Claude Bainrothe, know you as you are, and despise you utterly!"
Her voice trembled with anger, I knew of old its violent ring of rage.

"No, Evelyn, you only know me as I _seem_"--he spoke mildly,
humbly--"not as I _am_. I am not a very bad man, Evelyn, nor even a very
weak one; in all respects, vile as I appear to you, only a very unhappy
wretch, and as such entitled to your respectful compassion at least--all
I dare ask for now. I will not receive your scorn as my fit guerdon. Is
there no strength in overcoming inclination as I have done, in
compelling words of affection to flow from loathing lips?--for those
scars alone, Evelyn, in contrast to your speckless beauty, would of
themselves be enough to shock a fastidious man like me, those hideous
livid scars which I have yet to behold, and