orance, as she had
confessed,--to a sad pass; but he believed that she was still worthy
of his love.

"And now one other question, Alice;--but if you are silent, I will
not ask it again. Can you tell me why you have again accepted your
cousin's offer?"

"Because--," she said very quickly, looking up as though she were
about to speak with all her old courage. "But you would never
understand me," she said,--"and there can be no reason why I should
dare to hope that you should ever think well of me again."

He knew that there was no love,--no love for that man to whom she had
pledged her hand. He did not know, on the other hand, how strong,
how unchanged, how true was her love for himself. Indeed, of himself
he was thinking not at all. He desired to learn whether she would
suffer, if by any scheme he might succeed in breaking off this
marriage. When he had asked her whether she were to be married at
once, she had shuddered at the thought. When he asked her why she
had accepted her cousin, she had faltered, and hinted at some excuse
which he might fail to understand. Had she loved George Vavasor, he
could have understood that well enough.

"Alice," he said, speaking still very slowly, "nothing has ever yet
been done which need to a certainty separate you and me. I am a
persistent man, and I do not even yet give up all hope. A year is a
long time. As you say yourself, I do not as yet quite understand you.
But, Alice,--and I think that the position in which we stood a few
months since justifies me in saying so without offence,--I love you
now as well as ever, and should things change with you, I cannot tell
you with how much joy and eagerness I should take you back to my
bosom. My heart is yours now as it has been since I knew you."

Then he again just touched her hand, and left her before she had been
able to answer a word.

CHAPTER XXXVII

Mr Tombe's Advice

Alice sat alone for an hour without moving when John Grey had left
her, and the last words which he had uttered were sounding in her
ears all the time, "My heart is still yours, as it has been since I
knew you." There had been something in his words which had soothed
her spirits, and had, for the moment, almost comforted her. At any
rate, he did not despise her. He could not have spoken such words as
these to her had he not still held her high in his esteem. Nay;--had
he not even declared that he would yet take her as his own if she
would come to him