He was evidently in earnest; and, from the suddenness with which the confession of her attachment to his brother came upon him, it was impossible, she concluded, that he could have had time to concoct the hints which he threw out.

Could she have been mistaken in Charles?
And yet, why not?
Had he not, as it were, abandoned her ever since the occurrence of the family feud?
and why should he have done so unless there had been some reason for it?
It was quite clear, she thought, that, whatever revelation Woodward was about to make concerning him, it was one which would occasion himself great pain as his brother, and that nothing but the necessity of saving her from unhappiness could force him to speak out.

In fact, her mind was in a tumult; she felt quite nervous--tremulous--afraid of some disclosure that might destroy her hopes and her happiness, and make her wretched for life.
On the next day Woodward made his appearance and found Alice by herself in the drawing-room, as when he left her the day before.

His countenance seemed the very exponent of suffering and misery.
"Miss Goodwin," said he, "I have passed a period of the deepest anxiety since I saw you last.

You may, indeed, read what I have suffered, and am suffering, in my face, for unfortunately it is a tell-tale upon my heart; but I cannot help that, nor should I wish it to be otherwise.
Believe me, however, that it is not for myself that I suffer, but for you, and the prospects of your future happiness.