such considerations as these. Her exaggerated idea of the
gratitude that she owed to her uncle was beyond the limited reach of
reason. Nothing was to be gained by opposition; and no sensible course
was left but to say some peace-making words and submit.

"I beg your pardon, Regina, if I have offended you. You have sadly
disappointed me. I haven't deliberately misjudged you; I can say no
more."

She turned round quickly, and looked at him. There was an ominous
change to resignation in his voice, there was a dogged submission in
his manner, that alarmed her. She had never yet seen him under the
perilously-patient aspect in which he now presented himself, after his
apology had been made.

"I forgive you, Amelius, with all my heart," she said--and timidly held
out her hand.

He took it, raised it silently to his lips, and dropped it again.

She suddenly turned pale. All the love that she had in her to give to
a man, she had given to Amelius. Her heart sank; she asked herself, in
blank terror, if she had lost him.

"I am afraid it is _I_ who have offended _you,"_ she said. "Don't be
angry with me, Amelius! don't make me more unhappy than I am!"

"I am not in the least angry," he answered, still in the quiet subdued
way that terrified her. "You can't expect me, Regina, to contemplate a
ten years' engagement cheerfully."

She took his hand, and held it in both her own hands--held it, as if his
love for her was there and she was determined not to let it go.

"If you will only leave it to me," she pleaded, "the engagement shan't
be so long as that. Try my uncle with a little kindness and respect,
Amelius, instead of saying hard words to him. Or let _me_ try him, if
you are too proud to give way. May I say that you had no intention of
offending him, and that you are willing to leave the future to me?"

"Certainly," said Amelius, "if you think it will be of the slightest
use." His tone added plainly, "I don't believe in your uncle, mind, as
you do."

She still persisted. "It will be of the greatest use," she went on. "He
will let me go home again, and he will not object to your coming to see
me. He doesn't like to be despised and set at defiance--who does? Be
patient, Amelius; and I will persuade him to expect less money from
you--only what you may earn, dear, with your talents, long before ten
years have passed." She waited for a word of reply which might show that
she had encouraged him a little. He only smiled. "Y