k and cast himself into the sea? That was now
his thought respecting Mary Snow.

"Mrs. Thomas," he said, "I should like to speak to Mary alone for a
few minutes if you could allow it."

"Oh certainly; by all means. It will be quite proper." And gathering
up a bundle of the unfortunate stockings she took herself out of the
room.

Mary, as soon as Graham had spoken, became almost pale, and sat
perfectly still with her eyes fixed on her betrothed husband. While
Mrs. Thomas was there she was prepared for war and her spirit was hot
within her, but all that heat fled in a moment when she found herself
alone with the man to whom it belonged to speak her doom. He had
almost said that he would forgive her, but yet she had a feeling that
that had been done which could not altogether be forgiven. If he
asked her whether she loved the hero of the lamp-post what would she
say? Had he asked her whether she loved him, Felix Graham, she would
have sworn that she did, and have thought that she was swearing
truly; but in answer to that other question if it were asked, she
felt that her answer must be false. She had no idea of giving up
Felix of her own accord, if he were still willing to take her. She
did not even wish that he would not take her. It had been the lesson
of her life that she was to be his wife, and, by becoming so, provide
for herself and for her wretched father. Nevertheless a dream of
something different from that had come across her young heart, and
the dream had been so pleasant! How painfully, but yet with what a
rapture, had her heart palpitated as she stood for those ten wicked
minutes beneath the lamp-post!

"Mary," said Felix, as soon as they were alone,--and as he spoke he
came up to her and took her hand, "I trust that I may never be the
cause to you of any unhappiness;--that I may never be the means of
making you sad."

"Oh, Mr. Graham, I am sure that you never will. It is I that have
been bad to you."

"No, Mary, I do not think you have been bad at all. I should have
been sorry that that had happened, and that I should not have known
it."

"I suppose she was right to tell, only--" In truth Mary did not at
all understand what might be the nature of Graham's thoughts and
feelings on such a subject. She had a strong woman's idea that the
man whom she ought to love would not be gratified by her meeting
another man at a private assignation, especially when that other man
had written to her a love-letter;