he property, whether it comes from love or duty."

"And you will lose it."

"I cannot lose what never was mine," she said, smiling.

"But why should we not both have it,--one as well as the other?"

"No; we can't do that."

"Yes, we can; if you will do what I wish, and what he wishes also. I
love you with all my heart."

She opened her eyes as though driven to do so by surprise. She knew
that she should not have expressed herself in that way, but she could
not avoid the temptation.

"I do, indeed, with all my heart. Why should we not--marry, you know?
Then the property would belong to both of us."

"Yes; then it would."

"Why should we not; eh, Isabel?" Then he approached her as though
about to make some ordinary symptom of a lover's passion.

"Sit down there, Henry, and I will tell you why we cannot do that. I
do not love you in the least."

"You might learn to love me."

"Never; never! That lesson would be impossible to me. Now let there
be an end of it. Uncle Indefer has, I dare say, asked you to make
this proposition."

"He wrote a letter, just saying that he would like it."

"Exactly so. You have found yourself compelled to do his bidding, and
you have done it. Then let there be an end of it. I would not marry
an angel even to oblige him or to get Llanfeare; and you are not an
angel,--to my way of thinking."

"I don't know about angels," he said, trying still to be
good-humoured.

"No, no. That was my nonsense. There is no question of angels. But
not for all Llanfeare, not even to oblige him, would I undertake to
marry a man even if I were near to loving him. I should have to love
him entirely, without reference to Llanfeare. I am not at all near
loving you."

"Why not, Isabel?" he asked foolishly.

"Because--because--because you are odious to me!"

"Isabel!"

"I beg your pardon. I should not have said so. It was very wrong;
but, then, why did you ask so foolish a question? Did I not tell you
to let there be an end of it? And now will you let me give you one
little bit of advice?"

"What is it?" he asked angrily. He was beginning to hate her, though
he was anxious to repress his hatred, lest by indulging it he should
injure his prospects.

"Do not say a word about me to my uncle. It will be better for you
not to tell him that there has been between us any such interview as
this. If he did once wish that you and I should become man and wife,
I do not think that he wishes it now. Let th