band."

"You would be disgraced if you were to take me, after all that has
passed;--after what I have done. What would other men say of you when
they knew the story?"

"Other men, I hope, would be just enough to say, that when I had made
up my mind, I was tolerably constant in keeping to it. I do not think
they could say much worse of me than that."

"They would say that you had been jilted, and had forgiven the jilt."

"As far as the forgiveness goes, they would tell the truth. But,
indeed, Alice, I don't very much care what men do say of me."

"But I care, Mr Grey;--and though you may forgive me, I cannot
forgive myself. Indeed I know now, as I have known all along, that
I am not fit to be your wife. I am not good enough. And I have done
that which makes me feel that I have no right to marry anyone."
These words she said, jerking out the different sentences almost in
convulsions; and when she had come to the end of them, the tears
were streaming down her cheeks. "I have thought about it, and I
will not. I will not. After what has passed, I know that it will be
better,--more seemly, that I should remain as I am."

Soon after that she left him, not, however, till she had told him
that she would meet him again at dinner, and had begged him to treat
her simply as a friend. "In spite of everything, I hope that we may
always be friends,--dear friends," she said.

"I hope we may," he answered;--"the very dearest." And then he left
her.

In the afternoon he again encountered Mr Palliser, and having thought
over the matter since his interview with Alice, he resolved to tell
his whole story to his new acquaintance,--not in order that he might
ask for counsel from him, for in this matter he wanted no man's
advice,--but that he might get some assistance. So the two men
walked off together, up the banks of the clear-flowing Reuss, and Mr
Palliser felt the comfort of having a companion.

"I have always liked her," said Mr Palliser, "though, to tell the
truth, I have twice been very angry with her."

"I have never been angry with her," said the lover.

"And my anger was in both instances unjust. You may imagine how
great is my confidence in her, when I have thought she was the
best companion my wife could have for a long journey, taken under
circumstances that were--that were--; but I need not trouble you with
that."

So great had been the desolation of Mr Palliser's life since his
banishment from London that he almo