ties
even which are useful to the potter, he was as dear to her as when
she had leaned against him believing him to be a pillar of gold set
about with onyx stones, jaspers, and rubies. There was but one sin on
his part which could divide them. If, indeed, he should cease to love
her, then there would be an end to it! It would have been better that
Sir Harry should have remained in London till he could have returned
with George's autograph letter in his pocket.

"You must have the letter in his own handwriting," Mr. Boltby had
said, cunningly, "only you must return it to me."

Sir Harry had understood, and had promised, that the letter should
be returned when it had been used for the cruel purpose for which it
was to be sent to Humblethwaite. For all Sir Harry's own purposes Mr.
Boltby's statements would have quite sufficed.

She was told that her lover would renounce her, but she would not
believe what she was told. Of course he would accept the payment
of his debts. Of course he would take an income when offered to
him. What else was he to do? How was he to live decently without
an income? All these evils had happened to him because he had been
expected to live as a gentleman without proper means. In fact, he was
the person who had been most injured. Her father, in his complete, in
his almost abject tenderness towards her, could not say rough words
in answer to all these arguments. He could only repeat his assertion
over and over again that the man was utterly unworthy of her, and
must be discarded. It was all as nothing. The man must discard
himself.

"He is false as hell," said Sir Harry.

"And am I to be as false as hell also? Will you love me better when I
have consented to be untrue? And even that would be a lie. I do love
him. I must love him. I may be more wicked than he is, because I do
so. But I do."

Poor Lady Elizabeth in these days was worse than useless. Her
daughter was so strong that her weakness was as the weakness of
water. She was driven hither and thither in a way that she herself
felt to be disgraceful. When her husband told her that the cousin, as
matter of course, could never be seen again, she assented. When Emily
implored her to act as mediator with her father on behalf of the
wicked cousin, she again assented. And then, when she was alone with
Sir Harry, she did not dare to do as she had promised.

"I do think it will kill her," she said to Sir Harry.

"We must all die, but we need n