was silent, and again a bitter feeling crept into my heart.

"Don't you wish it had been Wilfred who saved you, instead of Roger?" I
asked, a little bitterly.

"Why?" she said, quickly.

"Because you seem to think so much more about him. You like to be in
his company, and you treasure every word that he says."

I thought she looked confused, as she said hurriedly, "Why should I
not?"

At this answer I was as much the slave to my mad feelings as when we
had commenced our walk. It was bitter hard for me. There, in sight of
the very place where I had saved her, she admitted her preference for
him who had done nothing for her.

"Why should you not?" I answered, boisterously, "why not indeed. There
is every reason why you should. No doubt you wish Wilfred were the
elder son and I the younger. No doubt you wish he were Trewinion's
heir, and that I were penniless."

"No, Roger," she said, "were you penniless, and were your father to
die, you would have no means of obtaining a livelihood. It is best as
it is."

Blunt and dull of perception as I was I could not help seeing the
purport of this. She thought me too much of a fool to earn a living;
that it was only by the money which I inherited as a birthright I was
saved from starving.

"I see the point of your answer, Ruth," I said. "You think Wilfred far
more fit for the position of Trewinion's heir than I, and that I am too
ignorant a clown to get a living for myself."

"I cannot help what conclusions you draw from my words, Roger," she
replied.

"There is only one conclusion to be drawn," I answered. "You think
Wilfred better than I. You think he should be master, and not I. You
think I am a brute, a savage."

"I think no such thing," she replied, "but you must yourself feel the
difference between you and him. He is kind, thoughtful, gentle; he is
cultured and refined. He gives way to no fits of passion, nor does he
seek to hurt one's feelings."

"Yes, yes," I said, bitterly. "He has been to Oxford, and has learnt
tricks dear to a woman's heart, and, having learnt them, he knows how
to practise them. He can quote poetry, and make soft speeches; he can
please you with flattery. His face is pale and interesting, his hands
are soft and white; and Ruth is very fond of him."

"You are unkind, and you are unjust, Roger. If he has been fonder of
study than you, and if he has learnt to govern his temper, don't be
jealous or cruel. Better try and e