I will never ask from you any thing that you can by any possibility come to regret at some future time.

I ought perhaps to be unselfish enough not to ask from you any thing at all.
I did not mean to; but I could not help it, and it is too late now." "Yes, it is too late now," said Mercy,--"too late now." And she buried her face in her hands.
"Mercy," exclaimed Stephen, in a voice of anguish, "you will break my heart: you will make me wish myself dead, if you show such suffering as this.

I thought that you, too, could find joy, and perhaps help, in my love, as I could in yours.

If it is to give you pain and not happiness, it were better for you never to see me again.

I will never voluntarily look on your face after to-night, if you wish it,--if you would be happier so." "Oh, no, no!" cried Mercy.