ing his own intentness. "I can not! I can
not! That is all I know. Ask me not why. I can not; that is all."

"Sir," said Lady Catharine, "this seems to me no less than terrible."

"It is indeed no less than terrible. Yet I must come and come again,
bound some day to be heard, not for what I am, but for what I might be.
'Tis not justice I would have, dear heart, but mercy, a woman's mercy!"

"And you would bully me to agree with you, as I said, in regard to your
own excellent code of morals, Mr. Law?"

"You evade, like any woman, but if you will, even have it so. At least
there is to be this battle between us all our lives. I will be loved,
Lady Catharine! I must be loved by you! Look in my heart. Search beneath
this man that you and others see. Find me my own fellow, that other self
better than I, who cries out always thus. Look! 'Tis not for me as I am.
No man deserves aught for himself. But find in my heart, Lady Catharine,
that other self, the man I might have been! Dear heart, I beseech you,
look!"

Impulsively, he even tore apart the front of his coat, as though indeed
to invite such scrutiny. He stood before her, trembling, choking. The
passion of his speech caused the color again to rush to the Lady
Catharine's face. For a moment her bosom rose and fell tumultuously,
deep answering as of old unto deep, in the ancient, wondrous way.

"Is it the part of manhood to persecute a woman, Mr. Law?" she asked,
her own uncertitude now showing in her tone.

"I do not know," he answered.

Lady Catharine looked at him curiously.

"Do you love me, Mr. Law?" she asked, directly.

"I have no answer."

"Did you love that other woman?"

It took all his courage to reply. "I am not fit to answer," said he.

"And you would love me, too, for a time and in a way?"

"I will not answer. I will not trifle."

"And I am to think Mr. Law better than himself, better than other men;
since you say no man dare ask actual justice?"

"Worse than other men, and yet a man. A man--my God! Lady Catharine--a
man unworthy, yet a man seized fatally of that love which neither life
nor death can alter!"

As one fascinated, Lady Catharine sat looking at him. "Then," said she,
"any man may say to any woman--Mr. Law says to me--'I have cared for
such, and so many other women to the extent, let us say, of so many
pounds sterling. But I love you to the extent of twice as many pounds,
shillings and pence?' Is that the dole we women may expect