She had deceived no one, only been herself deceived--in a very harmless fashion, just because, in her foolish, innocent heart, which knew nothing of the world and the world's wiles, she thought no man would ever be so mean, so cowardly, as to tell a girl he loved her unless he meant it in the true, noble, knightly way--a lover "Who loved one woman, and who clave to her" -- clave once and forever.

A vague tenderness hung about those days yet, enough to make her cast the halo of her sympathy over even commonplace Susan Bennett.
"Will you give me your confidence?
Who is this friend of yours, and why does he not at once ask you for his wife?
Perhaps he is poor and can not afford to marry ?" "Oh.

dear me! I'm not so stupid as to think of a poor man, Bless you! he has a title and an estate too.

If I get him I shall make a splendid marriage." Christian recoiled.

Her sympathy was altogether thrown away.