of being ruined."

"But listen to me. I should not die if you left me,--not be utterly
broken-hearted. Nothing on earth can I ever love as I have loved you.
But I have a God and a Saviour that will be enough for me. I can
turn to them with content, if it be well that you should leave me. I
have gone to them, and--" But at this moment she could utter no more
words. She had broken down in her effort, losing her voice through
the strength of her emotion. As she did not choose that he should see
her overcome, she turned from him and walked away across the grass.

Of course he followed her; but he was not so quick after her but that
time had been given to her to recover herself. "It is true," she
said. "I have the strength of which I tell you. Though I have given
myself to you as your wife, I can bear to be divorced from you
now,--now. And, my love, though it may sound heartless, I would
sooner be so divorced from you, than cling to you as a log that must
drag you down under the water, and drown you in trouble and care. I
would;--indeed I would. If you go, of course that kind of thing is
over for me. But the world has more than that,--much more; and I
would make myself happy,--yes, my love, I would be happy. You need
not fear that."

"But, Lily, why is all this said to me here to-day?"

"Because it is my duty to say it. I understand all your position now,
though it is only now. It never flashed on me till yesterday. When
you proposed to me, you thought that I--that I had some fortune."

"Never mind that now, Lily."

"But you did. I see it all now. I ought perhaps to have told you that
it was not so. There has been the mistake, and we are both sufferers.
But we need not make the suffering deeper than needs be. My love, you
are free,--from this moment. And even my heart shall not blame you
for accepting your freedom."

"And are you afraid of poverty?" he asked her.

"I am afraid of poverty for you. You and I have lived differently.
Luxuries, of which I know nothing, have been your daily comforts. I
tell you I can bear to part with you, but I cannot bear to become the
source of your unhappiness. Yes; I will bear it; and none shall dare
in my hearing to speak against you. I have brought you here to say
the word; nay, more than that,--to advise you to say it."

He stood silent for a moment, during which he held her by the hand.
She was looking into his face, but he was looking away into the
clouds; striving to appear