He had once worshipped her, laid out his life to suit her, wooed her, and lost her.

Though it was with almost the same zest, it was with not quite the same hope, that he had begun to tread the old tracks again, and allowed himself to be so charmed with her that day.
Move another step towards her he would not.

He would even repulse her--as a tribute to conscience.

It would be sheer sin to let her prepare a pitfall for her happiness not much smaller than the first by inveigling her into a union with such as he.

Her poor father was now blind to these subtleties, which he had formerly beheld as in noontide light.