s he hoped and believed it might.

'I think you know, Mary, that no idea of this kind had ever entered
my mind. I told Julian this, and told him that, however I might
esteem him as my cousin, he could never be nearer or dearer to me
than that. The change in his face when he heard this almost
frightened me. He grew deadly pale, but I am certain it was anger
rather than disappointment that was uppermost in his mind. I never
knew until then what a hard cruel face it could be.

"Is this irrevocable, Emily?" he asked, in a cold firm voice; "is
there no hope that you will change your mind by and by?"

"No, Julian; I am never likely to do that."

"There is some one else, then, I suppose," he said.

"No, indeed, there is no one else."

"Highly complimentary to me!" he cried, with a harsh laugh.

'I was very sorry for him, in spite of that angry look.

"Pray don't imagine that I do not appreciate your many high
qualities, Julian," I said, "or that I do not feel honoured by your
preference for me. No doubt there are many women in the world better
deserving your regard than I am, who would be able to return it."

"Thank you for that little conventional speech," he cried with a
sneer. "A man builds all his hopes of happiness on one woman, and
she coolly shatters the fabric of his life, and then tells him to go
and build elsewhere. I daresay there are women in the world who
would condescend to marry me if I asked them, but it is my
misfortune to care only for one woman. I can't transfer my
affection, as a man transfers his capital from one form of
investment to another."

'We walked on for some time in silence. I was determined not to be
angry with him, however ungraciously he might speak to me; and when
we were drawing near home, I begged that we might remain friends
still, and that this unfortunate conversation might make no
difference between us. I told him I knew how much my father valued
him, and that it would distress me deeply if he deserted Thornleigh
on my account.

"Friends!" he replied, in an absent tone; "yes, we are still friends
of course, and I shall not desert Thornleigh."

'He seemed gayer than usual that evening after dinner. Whether the
gaiety was assumed in order to hide his depression, or whether he
was really able to take the matter lightly, I cannot tell. Of course
I cannot shut out of my mind the consideration that a marriage with
me would be a matter of great worldly advantage to Julian, who h