--a place so pleasant that it had a fame of its own among
the luxuriantly pleasant seats of the English country gentry; she had
gone there, expecting to be happy in the mere feeling that it was all
her own; and the whole thing had been to her so unutterably sad, so
wretched in the severity of its desolation, that she had been unable to
endure her life amid the shade of her own trees. All her apples hitherto
had turned to ashes between her teeth, because her fate had forced her
to attempt the eating of them alone. But if she could give the fruit to
him--if she could make the apples over, so that they should all be his,
and not hers, then would there not come to her some of the sweetness of
the juice of them?

She declared to herself that she would not tempt this man to be untrue
to his troth, were it not that in doing so she would so greatly benefit
himself. Was it not manifest that Harry Clavering was a gentleman,
qualified to shine among men of rank and fashion, but not qualified to
make his way by his own diligence? In saying this of him, she did not
know how heavy was the accusation that she brought against him; but what
woman, within her own breast, accuses the man she loves? Were he to
marry Florence Burton, would he not ruin himself and probably ruin her
also? But she could give him all that he wanted. Though Ongar Park to
her alone was, with its rich pastures, and spreading oaks, and lowing
cattle, desolate as the Dead Sea shore, for him--and for her with
him--would it not be the very paradise suited to them? Would it not be
the heaven in which such a Phoebus should shine amid the gyrations of
his satellites? A Phoebus going about his own field in knickerbockers,
and with attendant satellites, would possess a divinity which, as she
thought, might make her happy. As she thought of all this, and asked
herself these questions, there was an inner conscience which told her
that she had no right to Harry's love or Harry's hand; but still she
could not cease to long that good things might come to her, though those
good things had not been deserved. Alas, good things not deserved too
often lose their goodness when they come! As she was sitting with
Sophie's letter in her hand, the door was opened and Captain Clavering
was announced.

Captain Archibald Clavering was again dressed in his very best, but he
did not even yet show by his demeanor that aptitude for the business now
in hand, of which he had boasted on the previ