should lift me, than
that I, a weak girl,--no more than that,--should drag you down?"

"I did not weigh my words."

"Yet, they were true," says she. "'Tis bred in my body--part of my
nature, this spirit of evil, and 'twill exist as long as I. For, even
now, I do feel that I would do this wickedness again, and worse, to win
you once more."

"My poor wife," says he, touched with pity; and holding forth his arms,
she goes to them and lays her cheek against his breast, and there stands
crying very silently with mingled thoughts--now of the room she had
prepared with such delight against his return, of her little table in
the corner, with the chiney image atop, and other trifles with which she
had dreamed to give him pleasure--all lost! No more would she sit by his
side there watching, with wonder and pride, the growth of beauty 'neath
his dexterous hand; and then she feels that 'tis compassion, not love,
that hath opened his arms to her, that she hath killed his respect for
her, and with it his love. And so, stifling the sobs that rise in her
throat, she weeps on, till her tears trickling from her cheek fall upon
his hand.

The icy barrier of resentment is melted by the first warm tear,--this
silent testimony of her smothered grief,--and bursting from the bonds of
reason, he yields to the passionate impulse of his heart, and clasping
this poor sorrowing wife to his breast, he seeks to kiss away the tears
from her cheek, and soothe her with gentle words. She responds to his
passion, kiss for kiss, as she clasps her hands about his head; but
still her tears flow on, for with her readier wit she perceives that
this is but the transport of passion on his side, and not the untaxed
outcome of enduring love, proving again the truth of his unmeditated
prophecy; for how can he stand who yields so quickly to the first
assault, and if he cannot stand, how can he raise her? Surely and more
surely, little by little, they must sink together to some lower depth,
and one day, thinks she, repeating his words, "We may chat easily upon
this villany and regret we went no further in it."

Mr. Godwin leads her to the adjoining chamber, which had been his, and
says:

"Lie down, love. To-morrow we shall see things clearer, and think more
reasonably."

"Yes," says she, in return, "more reasonably," and with that she does
his bidding; and he returns to sit before the embers and meditate. And
here he stays, striving in vain to bring the tum