coldly and decidedly.

"'Is it because you prefer another?' he asked, agitatedly.

"'No, that is not the reason,' I replied, proudly. 'I value you highly
as a friend, but nothing more. I am very sorry this has occurred, but
_you_ at least will exculpate me from the charge of coquetry. I never
dreamed of this.'

"'I know,' he answered, sadly enough. 'It is as I feared. And now let me
ask you, as one whose happiness has long been dearer to me than my own,
do you ever expect to be happy with such a man as Geoffrey Westbourne?
Do not ascribe my motive to jealousy, for, believe me, I am incapable of
a base action. It is only out of the deepest solicitude for your welfare
that I ask this question, for I fear for your future happiness, and that
you may be fatally mistaken in this man.'

"'You are impertinent, sir,' I said, rising. 'Geoffrey Westbourne is
nothing to me, and you need not fear that my affections will be
misplaced. I must respect the man I love, and look up to him as my
superior.' My pride was hurt, now, and I was thoroughly angry.

"'Pardon me,' he said, also rising, then added brokenly--'Remember that
my heart is always open to you. I am sadly afraid that you do not
understand your own feelings. Farewell, we may never meet again, but my
last prayer will be for your happiness.'

"As he went into the hall, the figure of a man stopped him, and Geoffrey
Westbourne called out cheerily;

"'Well met, Angier! What! how pale you look; you are ill. Let me go with
you to your lodgings. I will excuse myself to the ladies.'

"'Thank you, I am quite well,' said Angier, in a low voice. 'I will not
detain you. Good bye.'

"I never saw a face so radiant as was that of Geoffrey Westbourne, as he
entered the room where I stood, hardly knowing whether to withdraw and
ignore these embarrassing circumstances, or meet him in as collected a
manner as possible.

"I had no choice. As was always the case, in this man's presence, I
seemed to have no will of my own. I feared him, and when he repeated the
same question, in almost the very words his friend had uttered, I gave
a far different reply. But, if not dictated by inclination, I knew that
it was expected of me by every one. It almost seemed as if circumstances
had forced me to choose this alternative, and I accepted my fate in
complete indifference.

"In three months we were married, and went abroad. We travelled over
Europe at our leisure, visiting its gay capitals and f