When a lady is frank enough to declare that her heart is not her own to give, a man can hardly wish to make further prayer for the gift.

"If so," he said, "of course I have nothing to hope." She was sobbing, and could not answer him.

She was half repentant, partly proud of what she had done,--half repentant in that she had lost what had seemed to her to be so good, and full of remorse in that she had so unnecessarily told her secret.
"Perhaps," said he, "I ought to assure you that what you have told me shall never be repeated by my lips." She thanked him for this by a motion of her head and hand, not by words;--and then he was gone.

How he managed to bid adieu to Mrs.
Stanbury and her sister, or whether he saw them as he left the house, she never knew.

In her corner of the sofa, weeping in the dark, partly proud and partly repentant, she remained till her sister came to her.