could only believe me in what I say."

"It is not that I do not believe. I am not a puppy or a fool to
flatter myself that you must be in love with me. I believe you well
enough. But still it is possible that your mind may alter."

"It is impossible."

"I do not know whether my uncle or your mother have spoken to you
about this."

"Such speaking would have no effect."

In fact her mother had spoken to her, but she truly said that such
speaking would have no effect. If her cousin could not win the battle
by his own skill, he might have been quite sure, looking at her
character as it was known to him, that he would not be able to win it
by the skill of others.

"We have all been made very unhappy," he went on to say, by this
calamity which has fallen on poor Lily.

"And because she has been deceived by the man she did love, I am to
make matters square by marrying a man I--" and then she paused. "Dear
Bernard, you should not drive me to say words which will sound harsh
to you."

"No words can be harsher than those which you have already spoken.
But Bell, at any rate, you may listen to me."

Then he told her how desirable it was with reference to all the
concerns of the Dale family that she should endeavour to look
favourably on his proposition. It would be good for them all, he
said, especially for Lily, as to whom at the present moment their
uncle felt so kindly. He, as Bernard pleaded, was so anxious at heart
for this marriage, that he would do anything that was asked of him if
he were gratified. But if he were not gratified in this he would feel
that he had ground for displeasure.

Bell, as she had been desired to listen, did listen very patiently.
But when her cousin had finished, her answer was very short. "Nothing
that my uncle can say, or think, or do can make any difference in
this," said she.

"You will think nothing, then, of the happiness of others."

"I would not marry a man I did not love, to ensure any amount of
happiness to others;--at least I know I ought not to do so. But I do
not believe I should ensure any one's happiness by this marriage.
Certainly not yours."

After this Bernard had acknowledged to himself that the difficulties
in his way were great. "I will go away till next autumn," he said to
his uncle.

"If you would give up your profession and remain here, she would not
be so perverse."

"I cannot do that, sir. I cannot risk the well-being of my life on
such a chance." Then h