matters in which you could not look for sympathy to
such as him without being false, nay, almost worse than false? Have
you ever thought what it is to be the one loved object of a man's
heart, and to have accepted that love?" She had been on the point of
interrupting him, but the softness of these last words interrupted
her for a moment.

"Such a letter as that! Do you remember that letter, Caroline?"

"Yes, I remember it; remember it too well; I would not keep it. I
would not feel that such words from you were ever by me."

"You mean that it was harsh?"

"It was cruel."

"Harsh or cruel, or what you will--I shall not now stop to defend
it--it was one which from the very nature of it should have been
sacred between us. It was written to you as to one to whom I had a
right to write as my future wife."

"No one could have a right to write such a letter as that."

"In it, I particularly begged that Mr. Harcourt might not be made an
arbiter between us. I made a special request that to him, at least,
you would not talk of what causes of trouble there might be between
us; and yet you selected him as your confidant, read it with him,
poured over with him the words which had come hot from my heart,
discussed with him my love--my--my--my-- Bah! I cannot endure it; had
not you yourself told me so, I could not have believed it."

"George!--"

"Good God! that you should take my letters and read them over with
him! Why, Caroline, it admits but of one solution; there is but one
reading to the riddle; ask all the world."

"We sent for him as your friend."

"Yes, and seem to have soon used him as your own. I have no friend
to whom I allow the privilege of going between me and my own heart's
love. Yes, you were my own heart's love. I have to get over that
complaint now as best I may."

"I may consider then that all is over between us."

"Yes; there. You have back your hand. It is again your own to dispose
of to whom you will. Let you have what confidences you will, they
will no longer imply falsehood to me."

"Then, sir, if such be the case, I think you may cease to scold me
with such violence."

"I have long felt that I ought to give you this release; for I have
known that you have not thoroughly loved me."

Miss Waddington was too proud, too conscious of the necessity to
maintain her pride at the present moment to contradict this. But,
nevertheless, in her heart she felt that she did love him, that she
would fain