She rose up, cold, and white, and rigid.

The priest arose too.
"Are you going ?" he asked.
"Yes." "You are not offended with me for all this plain talk?
I like you so much, you know, that I want to see you happy." "Offended ?" she answered, "oh, no! Some day I will thank you; I cannot now." She opened the door and was gone, flitting along, a lonely figure in the bleak winter twilight.

She never paused in her rapid walk until she reached Danton Hall; and then, pale and absorbed, she ran rapidly upstairs, and shut herself into her room.

Throwing off her bonnet and mantle, she sat down to her writing-desk at once, and without waiting to think, took up a pen and dashed off a rapid note: "Sir Ronald:--I have deceived you.

I have done very wrong.
I don't love you--I never can; and I cannot be your wife.