ne
who was now speaking to us."

"What did she say?" asked Mr. Langley, eagerly.

"She said that the first feeling of her heart, at that moment, was
gratitude on her own account. She thanked God that the terrible
discovery had not been made too late, when her married life might have
been a life of estrangement and misery. Up to the moment when Mr.
Streatfield had uttered that one fatal exclamation, she had loved him,
she told us, fondly and fervently; _now_, no explanation, no repentance
(if either were tendered), no earthly persuasion or command (in case
Mr. Streatfield should think himself bound, as a matter of atonement, to
hold to his rash engagement), could ever induce her to become his wife."

"Mr. Streatfield will not test her resolution," said Mr. Langley,
bitterly; "he deliberately repeated his repudiation of his engagement in
this room; nay, more, he--"

"I have something important to say to you from Jane on this point,"
interrupted Mrs. Langley. "After she had spoken the first few words
which I have already repeated to you, she told us that she had been
thinking--thinking more calmly perhaps than we could imagine--on all
that had happened; on what Mr. Streatfield had said at the dinner-table;
on the momentary glance of recognition which she had seen pass between
him and her sister Clara, whose accidental absence, during the whole
period of Mr. Streatfield's intercourse with us in London, she now
remembered and reminded me of. The cause of the fatal error, and the
manner in which it had occurred, seemed to be already known to her, as
if by intuition. We entreated her to refrain from speaking on the
subject for the present; but she answered that it was her duty to speak
on it--her duty to propose something which should alleviate the suspense
and distress we were all enduring on her account. No words can describe
to you her fortitude, her noble endurance--." Mrs. Langley's voice
faltered as she pronounced the last words. It was some minutes ere she
became sufficiently composed to proceed thus:

"I am charged with a message to you from Jane--I should say, charged
with her entreaties, that you will not suspend our intercourse with Mr.
Streatfield, or view his conduct in any other than a merciful light--as
conduct for which accident and circumstances are alone to blame. After
she had given me this message to you, she turned to Clara, who sat
weeping by her side, completely overcome; and said that _they_ were t