ratifying to so eminent a Christian to be able to forgive plenarily,
without danger of the favor being returned. I have nothing to urge
against your decision--that we part forever. You will have no difficulty
in forgetting me, whom you ought never to have stooped to. Yet I will
give you one caution. I am not romantic, as you know, and I generally
mean what I say. If you should think hereafter of bestowing yourself on
some worthier object, hesitate a little for _his_ sake, or wait till I
am dead; otherwise, the day that makes his happiness certain may bring
him very near his grave."

His voice had changed during the last words into a growl of savage
menace, and his forehead was black and furrowed with passion.

It might have been his own excited fancy, or the passing just then of a
light cloud over the moon; but, for an instant, he thought he saw her
steady lip quiver and tremble. If so, be very sure it was not fear which
caused the emotion, though even that the circumstances might have
excused; rather, I think, it was a pang of self-reproach--a
consciousness of having acted unwisely, though for the best; perhaps,
too, the stubbornness of the heart she had ruled once--so strong and
proud even in its abasement--was congenial to her own besetting sin: she
liked the fierce threat better than the cool sarcasm. At any rate, she
answered more gently than she had yet spoken.

"I believe you. But you know me better than to think a threat would
influence me. Yet you need not fear my ever again trusting this world
with my happiness. You will be very sorry hereafter for some things you
have said to-night. Ask yourself--if I had loved you, as you seem to
have expected, better than my own soul, would the result have been
different? It is too late now to say any thing but--farewell. Will you
not say it, as I do, kindly, or at least not in anger--Guy?"

She paused between the two last words, and their imploring accent was
almost piteous. There must have been a strange fascination about
Livingstone, for, saint as she was, no other living creature would have
won such a concession from the Christian charity of Constance Brandon.

Had Guy spoken then, as he ought to have done, I believe all might have
been amended; but an angry devil was busy within him, and would not let
go his prey; he stood with his black brows downcast, and with folded
arms, never seeming to notice the slender fingers that sought to touch
his hand. True it is that