was standing.

"It is quite impossible," she said at last.

"If it really be so--if you will say again that it is so after hearing
me out to an end, I will desist. In that case I will desist and leave
you--and leave Clavering."

"Oh, Mr. Saul, do not do that--for papa's sake, and because of the
parish."

"I would do much for your father, and as to the parish I love it well. I
do not think I can make you understand how well I love it. It seems to
me that I can never again have the same feeling for any place that I
have for this. There is not a house, a field, a green lane, that is not
dear to me. It is like a first love. With some people a first love will
come so strongly that it makes a renewal of the passion impossible." He
did not say that it would be so with himself; but it seemed to her that
he intended that she should so understand him.

"I do not see why you should leave Clavering," she said.

"If you knew the nature of my regard for yourself, you would see why it
should be so. I do not say that there ought to be any such necessity. If
I were strong there would be no such need. But I am weak--weak in this;
and I could not hold myself under such control as is wanted for the work
I have to do." When he had spoken of his love for the place--for the
parish, there had been something of passion in his language; but now in
the words which he spoke of himself and of his feeling for her, he was
calm and reasonable and tranquil, and talked of his going away from her
as he might have talked had some change of air been declared necessary
for his health. She felt that this was so, and was almost angry with
him.

"Of course you must know what will be best for yourself;" she said.

"Yes; I know now what I must do, if such is to be your answer. I have
made up my mind as to that. I cannot remain at Clavering, if I am told
that I may never hope that you will become my wife."

"But, Mr. Saul--"

"Well; I am listening. But before you speak, remember how all-important
your words will be to me."

"No; they cannot be all-important."

"As regards my present happiness and rest in this world they will be so.
Of course I know that nothing you can say or do will hurt me beyond
that. But you might help me even to that further and greater bliss. You
might help me too in that--as I also might help you."

"But, Mr. Saul--" she began again, and then, feeling that she must go
on, she forced herself to utter words which at the time