ght to do so, and I know that your life will justify
the hopes of her who thus befriended you. But I am too weak to take
this step. To ask you to wait yet longer, would only be a fresh
cowardice. You cannot know how it shames me to write this. In my very
heart I believe I love you, but what is such love worth? You must
despise me, and you will forget me. I live in a little world; in the
greater world where your place is, you will win a love very different.

S. W.'

Godwin laughed aloud as the paper dropped from his hand.

Well, she was not the heroine of a romance. Had he expected her to
leave home and kindred--the 'little world' so infinitely dear to
her--and go forth with a man deeply dishonoured? Very young girls have
been known to do such a thing; but a thoughtful mature woman----!
Present, his passion had dominated her: and perhaps her nerves only.
But she had had time to recover from that weakness.

A woman, like most women of cool blood, temperate fancies. A domestic
woman; the ornament of a typical English home.

Most likely it was true that the matter of the legacy did not trouble
her. In any case she would not have consented to marry him, and
_therefore_ she knew no jealousy. Her love! why, truly, what was it
worth?

(Much, much! of no less than infinite value. He knew it, but this was
not the moment for such a truth.)

A cup of tea to steady the nerves. Then thoughts, planning,
world-building.

He was awake all night, and Sidwell's letter lay within reach.--Did
_she_ sleep calmly? Had she never stretched out her hand for _his_
letter, when all was silent? There were men who would not take such a
refusal. A scheme to meet her once more--the appeal of passion, face to
face, heart to heart--the means of escape ready--and then the 'greater
world'----

But neither was he cast in heroic mould. He had not the
self-confidence, he had not the hot, youthful blood. A critic of life,
an analyst of moods and motives; not the man who dares and acts. The
only important resolve he had ever carried through was a scheme of
ignoble trickery--to end in frustration.

'The greater world'. It was a phrase that had been in his own mind once
or twice since Moxey's visit. To point him thither was doubtless the
one service Sidwell could render him. And in a day or two, that phrase
was all that remained to him of her letter.

On a Sunday afternoon at the end of October, Godwin once more climbed
the familiar stairs at Stap