de him trembling. 'I thought I would tell it you all, because I
wish you to know exactly the state of my mind. I would show you if I
could all my heart and all my thoughts about yourself as in a glass
case. Do not coy your love for me if you can feel it. When you know,
dear, that a man's heart is set upon a woman as mine is set on you, so
that it is for you to make his life bright or dark, for you to open or
to shut the gates of his earthly Paradise, I think you will be above
keeping him in darkness for the sake of a girlish scruple.'

'Oh, Roger!'

'If ever there should come a time in which you can say it truly,
remember my truth to you and say it boldly. I at least shall never
change. Of course if you love another man and give yourself to him, it
will be all over. Tell me that boldly also. I have said it all now.
God bless you, my own heart's darling. I hope,--I hope I may be strong
enough through it all to think more of your happiness than of my own.'
Then he parted from her abruptly, taking his way over one of the
bridges, and leaving her to find her way into the house alone.

CHAPTER XX - LADY POMONA'S DINNER PARTY

Roger Carbury's half-formed plan of keeping Henrietta at home while
Lady Carbury and Sir Felix went to dine at Caversham fell to the
ground. It was to be carried out only in the event of Hetta's yielding
to his prayer. But he had in fact not made a prayer, and Hetta had
certainly yielded nothing. When the evening came, Lady Carbury started
with her son and daughter, and Roger was left alone. In the ordinary
course of his life he was used to solitude. During the greater part of
the year he would eat and drink and live without companionship; so
that there was to him nothing peculiarly sad in this desertion. But on
the present occasion he could not prevent himself from dwelling on the
loneliness of his lot in life. These cousins of his who were his
guests cared nothing for him. Lady Carbury had come to his house
simply that it might be useful to her; Sir Felix did not pretend to
treat him with even ordinary courtesy; and Hetta herself, though she
was soft to him and gracious, was soft and gracious through pity
rather than love. On this day he had, in truth, asked her for nothing;
but he had almost brought himself to think that she might give all
that he wanted without asking. And yet, when he told her of the
greatness of his love, and of its endurance, she was simply silent.
When the carriage t