displeased with
his return and wished him back to his grave-clothes."

"You can turn the comparison as you choose; but it is not necessary that
an illustration should be perfect in every respect; if one catches a
gleam of resemblance, it is enough."

The perfect command of her faculties, and the deliberate way in which
she sustained her part in the conversation, thus far, were sufficiently
disheartening to Greenleaf. He longed to change the tone, but feared to
lose all by any rapid advance. He answered deprecatingly,--"But all this
intellectual fencing, my dear Alice, is useless. Love is not a spark
to be struck out by the collision of arguments; I shall in vain try to
_reason_ you into affection for me. I have already said all I can say by
way of apology for what I have done. If there yet lingers any particle
of regard for me in your heart, I would fain revive it. If it is your
pride that withstands me, I pray you consider whether it is well to make
us both unhappy in order to maintain so poor a triumph. I am already
conquered, and throw myself upon your generosity."

"You would put me in the wrong, then, and ascribe my refusal to an
ungenerous pride? Is it generous in you to do so? Have you the right to
place such a construction upon my conduct? I appeal to you in return.
Remember, it is you who are responsible for this painful interview. I
never sought you to cover you with reproaches. You force me to say what
I would gladly leave in silence."

"Forgive me, Alice, if I wrong you; but my heart clings to you and will
not be repulsed. I would fain believe, that, beneath all your natural
resentment, there yet survives some portion of the love you once bore
to me. If it were the first time I had ever approached you, a sense of
delicacy, to say nothing of my own self-respect, would have prevented
my importuning you in this way. But my fault has given me warrant to
be bold, and if you finally cast me off,--but that is what I won't
anticipate; I can't give you up. You once loved me,--and am I not the
same?"

"No, not the same; or, rather, you have proved to be not what I
thought."

"You persist in fixing your attention upon one dark spot. Do you
remember this miniature? It has never been out of my bosom, and there
has never been but one day in which I might not loyally carry it there.
At that time, when I opened it, your eyes looked out at me with a tender
reproach, and I was instantly recalled to myself. It was only