all depends upon you.
Look here, Jane, if you will stick to me I will stick to you. The luck
is against me now, but I have it in me to see that through. I love you
and I would work myself to death for you; but at the best it must be a
question of time, probably of years."

"Oh! Leonard, indeed I will if I can. I am sure that you do not love
me more than I love you, but I can never make you understand how odious
they all are to me about you, especially Papa."

"Confound him!" said Leonard beneath his breath; and if Jane heard, at
that moment her filial affections were not sufficiently strong to induce
her to remonstrate.

"Well, Jane," he went on, "the matter lies thus: either you must put
up with their treatment or you must give me the go-by. Listen: in six
months you will be twenty-one, and in this country all her relations put
together can't force a woman to marry a man if she does not wish to, or
prevent her from marrying one whom she does wish to marry. Now you know
my address at my club in town; letters sent there will always reach me,
and it is scarcely possible for your father or anybody else to prevent
you from writing and posting a letter. If you want my help or to
communicate in any way, I shall expect to hear from you, and if need be,
I will take you away and marry you the moment you come of age. If, on
the other hand, I do not hear from you, I shall know that it is because
you do not choose to write, or because that which you have to write
would be too painful for me to read. Do you understand, Jane?"

"Oh! yes, Leonard, but you put things so hardly."

"Things have been put hardly enough to me, love, and I must be
plain--this is my last chance of speaking to you."

At this moment an ominous sound echoed through the night; it was none
other than the distant voice of Mr. Beach, calling from his front-door
step, "Jane! Are you out there, Jane?"

"Oh! heavens!" she said, "there is my father calling me. I came out
by the back door, but mother must have been up to my room and found me
gone. She watches me all day now. What _shall_ I do?"

"Go back and tell them that you have been saying good-bye to me. It is
not a crime; they cannot kill you for it."

"Indeed they can, or just as bad," replied Jane. Then suddenly she threw
her arms about her lover's neck and burying her beautiful face upon
his breast, she began to sob bitterly, murmuring, "Oh my darling, my
darling, what shall I do without you?"

Over