was her heart deaf to them? She swore to herself, over and over
again, scores and scores of oaths, that it was so; but each time that
she swore, some lowest corner in the depth of her conscience seemed
to charge her with a falsehood. Why was it that in all her hours of
thinking she so much oftener saw his face, Owen's, than she did that
other face of which in duty she was bound to think and dream? It
was in vain that she told herself that she was afraid of Owen, and
therefore thought of him. The tone of his voice that rang in her
ears the oftenest was not that of his anger and sternness, but the
tone of his first assurance of love--that tone which had been so
inexpressibly sweet to her--that to which she had listened on this
very spot where she now walked slowly, thinking of him. The look of
his which was ever present to her eyes was not that on which she
had almost feared to gaze but an hour ago; but the form and spirit
which his countenance had worn when they were together on that
well-remembered day.

And then she would think, or try to think, of Herbert, and of all
his virtues and of all his goodness. He too loved her well. She
never doubted that. He had come to her with soft words, and pleasant
smiles, and sweet honeyed compliments--compliments which had been
sweet to her as they are to all girls; but his soft words, and
pleasant smiles, and honeyed love-making had never given her so
strong a thrill of strange delight as had those few words from
Owen. Her very heart's core had been affected by the vigour of his
affection. There had been in it a mysterious grandeur which had half
charmed and half frightened her. It had made her feel that he, were
it fated that she should belong to him, would indeed be her lord and
ruler; that his was a spirit before which hers would bend and feel
itself subdued. With him she could realize all that she had dreamed
of woman's love; and that dream which is so sweet to some women--of
woman's subjugation. But could it be the same with him to whom she
was now positively affianced, with him to whom she knew that she did
now owe all her duty? She feared that it was not the same.

And then again she swore that she loved him. She thought over all his
excellences; how good he was as a son--how fondly his sisters loved
him--how inimitable was his conduct in these hard trying times. And
she remembered also that it was right in every way that she should
love him. Her mother and brother approve