would be an
addition to my happiness; and, accordingly, I cast my eyes round among
the fair maidens of the village. They fell upon the unfortunate Jessie
Renton. She lived within a few doors of me, and I had often seen and
admired her in my walks. I thought I loved her--for, at that time, I had
not learned what true love was--and offered to make her my wife. I
dealt candidly and openly with her. In education, I need not say that I
knew she was much beneath me; but she seemed warm-hearted and docile,
and I thought it would be a loving pastime for me to make her my pupil.
I was not ignorant, however, that she had other lovers; and, although
she certainly encouraged my addresses, I saw reason to discontinue my
suit. About this time, the awful event took place, the particulars of
which are already known to you; and, simply because I had been abroad on
the evening of the murder, and near the fatal spot, and partly, no
doubt, from the circumstance of my attachment, which I had taken no
pains to conceal, suspicion fastened upon me. I will not--indeed I
cannot--tell you what laceration of feeling--what distraction of mind--I
have since suffered. But you--you, O lady! is it wonderful that I should
love you?--you who, when all the world was against me, spoke kindly to
me?--you----forgive me, but I love--I adore you; day and night you have
been my dream--my idol! But I rave; and yet, do not think me quite mad;
for I know I am partly so, and madness knows not itself. O lady!--pardon
me! but my heart will not let my tongue speak, lest it should wrong
it--could my _heart_ speak, could"----

"Sir--sir!" interrupted Miss Manners; "this is frenzy! I beg, sir, you
will desist. So sudden--so"----

"Sudden!" exclaimed Jones. "My love may have been sudden; but, for
weeks, for months, it has taken possession of me. But, pardon me,
madam," he added, in a calmer tone. "Do not mistake me. I know too well
that I dare not hope; but an humble offering may be laid upon a lofty
shrine. All I ask is your compassion; say only you pity me, and I shall
embalm the words in my memory for ever!"

Miss Manners _did_ pity him; but begged him, as he valued his own
happiness, to banish from his mind all such thoughts as he had
expressed.

"Ah, madam," said he, "ask me to part with life, and I may obey you;
but, while life remains, I never can cease to love you."

They had now reached the entrance to the garden; and Miss Manners held
out her hand, saying