ou rob
me of this treasure? I saw you, and for the first time I felt a vague
and intoxicating interest in another; but I did not dream of danger. As
our acquaintance advanced I formed to myself a romantic and delightful
vision. I would be your firmest, your truest friend; your confidant,
your adviser--perhaps, in some epochs of life, your inspiration and your
guide. I repeat that I foresaw no danger in your society. I felt myself
a nobler and a better being. I felt more benevolent, more tolerant, more
exalted. I saw life through the medium of purifying admiration for a
gifted nature, and a profound and generous soul. I fancied we might be
ever thus--each to each;--one strengthened, assured, supported by the
other. Nay, I even contemplated with pleasure the prospect of your
future marriage with another--of loving your wife--of contributing with
her to your happiness--my imagination made me forget that we are made
of clay. Suddenly all these visions were dispelled--the fairy palace was
overthrown, and I found myself awake, and on the brink of the abyss--you
loved me, and in the moment of that fatal confession, the mask dropped
from my soul, and I felt that you had become too dear to me. Be
silent still, I implore you. I do not tell you of the emotions, of the
struggles, through which I have passed the last few hours--the crisis of
a life. I tell you only of the resolution I formed. I thought it due
to you, nor unworthy to myself, to speak the truth. Perhaps it might be
more womanly to conceal it; but my heart has something masculine in
its nature. I have a great faith in your nobleness. I believe you can
sympathise with whatever is best in human weakness. I tell you that I
love you--I throw myself upon your generosity. I beseech you to assist
my own sense of right--to think well of me, to honour me--and to leave
me!"

During the last part of this strange and frank avowal, Valerie's voice
had grown inexpressibly touching: her tenderness forced itself into her
manner; and when she ceased, her lip quivered; her tears, repressed by
a violent effort, trembled in her eyes--her hands were clasped--her
attitude was that of humility, not pride.

Maltravers stood perfectly spell-bound. At length he advanced; dropped
on one knee, kissed her hand with an aspect and air of reverential
homage, and turned to quit the room in silence; for he would not dare to
trust himself to speak.

Valerie gazed at him in anxious alarm. "O no, no!"