And, when you have, I think you will grant me a favor I wish to ask you.

Poor fellow! so full of hopes that I am doomed to disappoint." She rose to hide her emotion, and left Arthur Wardlaw's letter in the hands of him who loved her, if possible, more devotedly than Arthur Wardlaw did; and she walked the deck pensively, little dreaming how strange a thing she had done.
As for Hazel, he was in a situation poignant with agony; only the heavy blow that had just fallen had stunned and benumbed him.

He felt a natural repugnance to read this letter.

But she had given him no choice.

He read it.