ullen.

"I did," said she. "I was on the point of telling you everything: twice
I had intended to do so. I intended to implore you, as you loved me as
your cousin, to use your exertions to reconcile my uncle and Lord
Ballindine--and now instead of that--"

"You find I love you too well myself?"

"Oh, forget, Adolphus, forget that the words ever passed your lips.
You have not loved me long, and therefore will not continue to love
me, when you know I never can be yours: forget your short-lived
love; won't you, Adolphus?"--and she put her clasped hands upon his
breast--"forget,--let us both forget that the words were ever spoken.
Be still my cousin, my friend, my brother; and we shall still both be
happy."

Different feelings were disturbing Lord Kilcullen's breast--different
from each other, and some of them very different from those which
usually found a place there. He had sought Fanny's hand not only with
most sordid, but also with most dishonest views: he not only intended
to marry her for her fortune, but also to rob her of her money; to
defraud her, that he might enable himself once more to enter the world
of pleasure, with the slight encumbrance of a wretched wife. But, in
carrying out his plan, he had disturbed it by his own weakness: he had
absolutely allowed himself to fall in love with his cousin; and when,
as he had just done, he offered her his hand, he was quite as anxious
that she should accept him for her own sake as for that of her money.
He had taught himself to believe that she would accept him, and many
misgivings had haunted him as to the ruined state to which he should
bring her as his wife. But these feelings, though strong enough to
disturb him, were not strong enough to make him pause: he tried to
persuade himself that he could yet make her happy, and hurried on to
the consummation of his hopes. He now felt strongly tempted to act a
generous part; to give her up, and to bring Lord Ballindine back to her
feet; to deserve at any rate well of her, and leave all other things to
chance. But Lord Kilcullen was not accustomed to make such sacrifices:
he had never learned to disregard himself; and again and again he
turned it over in his mind--"how could he get her fortune?--was there
any way left in which he might be successful?"

"This is child's play, Fanny," he said. "You may reject me: to that I
have nothing further to say, for I am but an indifferent wooer; but you
can never marry Lord Ballind