I am not worthy of you--I am not worthy of such devotion.

I thank you, Sir Ronald, for the honour you do me; but I cannot--I cannot marry you!" "And you will let that poltroon Stanford boast, as he does boast, that you will live and die single for his sake!" he cried, bitterly.

"He has made it the subject of a bet in a London club-room with Major Lauderdale of the Guards." "No!" said she, her face flushing, her eyes kindling; "he never did that!" "He did do it.

I have proof of it.

You loved him so well--he boasted--that you would never marry.