ness. You do not, you cannot, know the
misery I have endured in possessing the love upon which you so cruelly
frown."

The passionate eloquence of Maxwell might have melted a heart less firm
than that of Emily Dumont. As it was, the cold expression of contempt
left her features, and, if not disposed to listen with favor to his
suit, she was softened into pity for his assumed misery. Under any other
circumstances, the lie he had a moment before uttered would have forever
condemned him in her sight. But her charitable disposition compelled her
to believe that it was the last resort of a mind on the verge of
despair.

"Mr. Maxwell," said she, "I am deeply grieved that you should have
suffered any unhappiness on my account."

"I will bless you for even those words," returned Maxwell, hastily,
feeling that he had gained the first point.

"But I do not intend to encourage your suit," promptly returned the
lady.

"Be not again unkind! Veil not that heavenly sympathy in the coldness of
indifference again!"

"I wish not to be harsh, or unkind. You have before given me an index of
your sentiments, and I have endeavored, by all courteous means, to
discountenance them."

"Yet I have always found something upon which to base a flickering
hope."

"If you have, I regret it all the more."

"Do not say so! Changed as has been your demeanor towards me, I have
dared to fan the flame in my heart, till now it is a raging fire, and
beyond my control."

"I cannot give my hand where my heart is uninterested," replied the
lady, feelingly. "I love you not. I am candid, and plain, and I trust
this unequivocal declaration will forever terminate any hope you have
cherished in relation to this matter. Painful as I now feel it must be
for you to hear, and painful as it is to me, on that account, to declare
it, I repeat--I can never reciprocate the affection you profess. And now
let this interview terminate. It is too painful to be prolonged;"--and
she again moved towards the door.

"Do not leave me to despair!" pleaded Maxwell, earnestly, as he followed
her toward the door. "At least, bid me wait, bid me prove myself
worthy,--anything, but do not forever extinguish the little star I have
permitted to blaze in the firmament of my heart--the star I have dared
to worship. Do not veil me in utter darkness!"

"I can offer no hope--not the slightest, even to rid myself of an
annoyance," replied Miss Dumont, with the return of some portion