e,--nay, were it all, I had not hesitated. Let me ask
you, further, did I ever propose or intimate any terms of compact, on
which depended this--as the world would consider it--so important
sacrifice?"

"You certainly spoke of none," said Hollingsworth.

"Nor meant any," she responded. "I was willing to realize your dream
freely,--generously, as some might think,--but, at all events, fully,
and heedless though it should prove the ruin of my fortune. If, in your
own thoughts, you have imposed any conditions of this expenditure, it
is you that must be held responsible for whatever is sordid and
unworthy in them. And now one other question. Do you love this girl?"

"O Zenobia!" exclaimed Priscilla, shrinking back, as if longing for the
rock to topple over and hide her.

"Do you love her?" repeated Zenobia.

"Had you asked me that question a short time since," replied
Hollingsworth, after a pause, during which, it seemed to me, even the
birch-trees held their whispering breath, "I should have told
you--'No!' My feelings for Priscilla differed little from those of an
elder brother, watching tenderly over the gentle sister whom God has
given him to protect."

"And what is your answer now?" persisted Zenobia.

"I do love her!" said Hollingsworth, uttering the words with a deep
inward breath, instead of speaking them outright. "As well declare it
thus as in any other way. I do love her!"

"Now, God be judge between us," cried Zenobia, breaking into sudden
passion, "which of us two has most mortally offended Him! At least, I
am a woman, with every fault, it may be, that a woman ever had,--weak,
vain, unprincipled (like most of my sex; for our virtues, when we have
any, are merely impulsive and intuitive), passionate, too, and pursuing
my foolish and unattainable ends by indirect and cunning, though
absurdly chosen means, as an hereditary bond-slave must; false,
moreover, to the whole circle of good, in my reckless truth to the
little good I saw before me,--but still a woman! A creature whom only
a little change of earthly fortune, a little kinder smile of Him who
sent me hither, and one true heart to encourage and direct me, might
have made all that a woman can be! But how is it with you? Are you a
man? No; but a monster! A cold, heartless, self-beginning and
self-ending piece of mechanism!"

"With what, then, do you charge me!" asked Hollingsworth, aghast, and
greatly disturbed by this attack. "Show me on