aving listened to you has power to
overwhelm any regret that may be lingering in my unworthy breast, and
that the mere fact of your bodily presence is agony to me. When I met
you to-day I was battling with my invention to devise some means of
leaving the place where you are without exciting suspicion. If you ever
loved, have pity on me now; take the initiative, and rid me of
yourself."

"Is this your final decision, Blanche?" he asked, slowly. "Will you not
regret it when too late, and you are left alone with only _that_?"

She shuddered, and he caught at the fact as a sign of relenting.

"Dearest, loveliest," he commenced.--This woman had been the loveliest
to him in days gone past, and though she was so terribly changed in eyes
that regarded her less, Herbert Laurence, her once lover, could still
trace above the languor and debility and distress of her present
appearance, the fresh, sparkling woman who had sacrificed herself for
his sake; and although his style of address signified more than he
really thought for her, the knowledge of how much she had undergone
since their separation had the power to make him imagine that this
partial reanimation of an old flame was a proof that the fire which
kindled it had never perished. Therefore it did not appear absurd in his
mental eyes to preface his appeal to Mrs. Damer thus: "Dearest,
loveliest--" but she turned upon him as though he had insulted her.

"Mr. Laurence!" she exclaimed, "I have told you that the past is past;
be good enough to take me at my word. Do you think that I have lived
over two years of solitary shame and grief, to break the heart that
trusts in me _now_? If I had any wish, or any thought to the contrary,
it would be impossible. I am enveloped by kind words and acts, by care
and attention, which chain me as closely to my home as if I were kept a
prisoner between four walls. I could not free myself if I would," she
continued, throwing back her arms, as though she tried to break an
invisible thrall. "I must die first; the cords of gratitude are bound
about me so closely. It is killing me, as nothing else could kill," she
added, in a lower voice. "I lived under your loss, and the knowledge of
my own disgrace; but I cannot live under his perpetual kindness and
perfect trust. It cannot last much longer: for mercy's sake, leave me in
peace until the end comes!"

"And the box?" he demanded.

"I will provide for the box before that time," she answered, sad