rom my body
and still live on."

"Even if my sister cared for you," said Lillian, gently--for his
passionate words touched her--"you must know that Lord Earle would
never allow her to keep such a promise as she made."

"She knew nothing of Lord Earle when it was made," he replied, "nor did
I. She was a beautiful child, pining away like a bright bird shut up
in a cage. I promised her freedom and liberty; she promised me her
love. Where was Lord Earle then? She was safe with me. I loved her.
I was kinder to her than her own father; I took care of her--he did
not."

"It is all changed now," said Lillian.

"But I can not change," he answered. "If fortune had made me a king,
should I have loved your sister less! Is a man's heart a plaything?
Can I call back my love? It has caused me woe enough."

Lillian knew not what to say in the presence of this mighty love; her
gentle efforts at mediation were bootless. She pitied him she pitied
Beatrice.

"I am sure you can be generous," she said, after a short silence.
"Great, true, noble love is never selfish. My sister can never be
happy with you; then release her. If you force her, or rather try to
force her, to keep this rash promise, think how she will dislike you.
If you are generous, and release her, think how she will esteem you."

"Does she not love me?" he asked; and his voice was hoarse with pain.

"No," replied Lillian, gently; "it is better for you to know the truth.
She does not love you--she never will."

"I do not believe it," he cried. "I will never believe it from any
lips but her own! Not love me! Great Heaven! Do you know you are
speaking of the woman who promised to be my wife? If she tells me so,
I will believe her."

"She will tell you," said Lillian, "and you must not blame her. Come
again when she is well."

"No," returned Hugh Fernely; "I have waited long enough. I am here to
see her, and I swear I will not leave until she has spoken to me."

He drew a pencil case from his pocket, and wrote a few lines on the
envelope which Beatrice had sent.

"Give that to your sister," he said, softly; "and, Miss Lillian, I
thank you for coming to me. You have been very kind and gentle. You
have a fair, true face. Never break a man's heart for pastime, or
because the long sunny hours hang heavy upon your hands."

"I wish I could say something to comfort you," she said. He held out
his hand and she could not refuse hers.

"Goodbye, Mis