ed and frightened into marrying any woman."

"Will you remember whose presence you are in?"

"If you wanted to be my wife----"

"I do not want to be your wife."

"If you loved me in the least----"

"I do not love you in the least."

"I shall come here no more. O Elizabeth! Only to think!"

"I am glad you come here no more. I see that you judge the honour and
fulness of my heart by the infidelity and emptiness of your own. Go,
sir, and remember, you discard not me--I discard you."

Thus speaking she passed him haughtily, and he put out his hand as if
to detain her, but she gathered her drapery close and so left him. Mr.
Tresham heard her footsteps and softly opened the door of his library.
"Come in here, Elizabeth," he said with some tenderness.

"I have seen him."

"And he brought you the news of his own dishonour. Let him go. He is
as weak as a bent flax-stalk, and to be weak is to be wicked. Bury
your disappointment in your heart, do not even tell Denas--girls talk
to their mothers and mothers talk to all and sundry. Turn your face to
Burrell Court now--it is a fair fortune."

"And it may be a good thing for poor Roland."

"It may. A respectable position and a certain income is often
salvation for a man. Write to Mr. Burrell at once, and send the letter
by the gardener."

That was an easy direction to give, but Elizabeth did not find it easy
to carry out. She wrote half-a-dozen letters, and none of them was
satisfactory. So she finally asked her lover to call and see her at
seven o'clock that evening. And it was very natural that, in the
stress of such an important decision, the visit of Denas and their
intention of dressing the altar should be forgotten. It was a kind of
unpleasant surprise to her when Denas came and she remembered the
obligation. Of course she could not now refuse to fulfil it. The
offering was surely to God, and no relation between herself and the
rector could interfere with it. But it was a great trial. She said she
had a headache, and perhaps that complaint as well as any other
defined the hurt and shock she had received.

Denas wondered at Elizabeth's want of interest. She did not
superintend as usual the cutting of the flowers, so carefully nursed
and saved for this occasion; and though she went to the church with
Denas and really did her best to make a heart offering with her Easter
wreaths, the effort was evident. Her work lacked the joyous enthusiasm
which had always distin