Before she had uttered a word he saw the terrible resolution in her face--Death, rather than yield to her own weakness and disgrace him.
She stood with her hands lightly clasped in front of her.

Her grand head was raised; her soft gray eyes shone again undimmed by tears.

The storm of emotion had swept over her and had passed away A sad tranquillity was in her face; a gentle resignation was in her voice.

The calm of a martyr was the calm that confronted him as she spoke her last words.
"A woman who has lived my life, a woman who has suffered what I have suffered, may love you--as _I_ love you--but she must not be your wife.
_That_ place is too high above her.

Any other place is too far below her and below you." She paused, and advancing to the bell, gave the signal for her departure.