decline upon some other less meet for me?"

Alan gazed at her, irresolute. "But if you love me so much," he
said, "surely, surely, it is a small thing to trust your future to
me."

The tenderness of woman let her hand glide over his cheek. She was
not ashamed of her love. "O Alan," she cried, "if it were only for
myself, I could trust you with my life; I could trust you with
anything. But I haven't only myself to think of. I have to think
of right and wrong; I have to think of the world; I have to think
of the cause which almost wholly hangs upon me. Not for nothing
are these impulses implanted in my breast. They are the voice of
the soul of all women within me. If I were to neglect them for the
sake of gratifying your wishes,--if I were to turn traitor to my
sex for the sake of the man I love, as so many women have turned
before me, I should hate and despise myself. I couldn't love you,
Alan, quite so much, loved I not honor more, and the battle imposed
upon me."

Alan wavered as she spoke. He felt what she said was true; even if
he refused to take her on the only terms she could accept, he would
not thereby save her. She would turn in time and bestow herself
upon some man who would perhaps be less worthy of her,--nay even on
some man who might forsake her in the sequel with unspeakable
treachery. Of conduct like that, Alan knew himself incapable. He
knew that if he took Herminia once to his heart, he would treat her
with such tenderness, such constancy, such devotion as never yet
was shown to living woman. (Love always thinks so.) But still, he
shrank from the idea of being himself the man to take advantage of
her; for so in his unregenerate mind he phrased to himself their
union. And still he temporized. "Even so, Herminia," he cried,
bending forward and gazing hard at her, "I couldn't endure to have
it said it was I who misled you."

Herminia lifted her eyes to his with just a tinge of lofty scorn,
tempered only by the womanliness of those melting lashes. "And you
can think of THAT?" she murmured, gazing across at him half in
tears. "O Alan, for my part I can think of nothing now but the
truths of life and the magnitude of the issues. Our hearts against
the world,--love and duty against convention."

Then Alan began again and talked all he knew. He urged, he prayed,
he bent forward, he spoke soft and low, he played on her tenderest
chords as a loving woman. Herminia was moved, for her