daunt, me when
you proffer it."

"Not now; later, perhaps,--not now. If you wish to see Lilian alone, she
is by the Old Monk's Well; I saw her seated there as I passed that way
to the house."

"One word more,--only one. Answer this question frankly, for it is one
of honour. Do you still believe that my suit to her daughter would not
be disapproved of by Mrs. Ashleigh?"

"At this moment I am sure it would not; a week hence I might not give
you the same answer."

So she passed on with her quick but measured tread, back through the
shady walk, on to the open lawn, till the last glimpse of her pale gray
robe disappeared under the boughs of the cedar-tree. Then, with a
start, I broke the irresolute, tremulous suspense in which I had vainly
endeavoured to analyze my own mind, solve my own doubts, concentrate my
own will, and went the opposite way, skirting the circle of that haunted
ground,--as now, on one side its lofty terrace, the houses of the
neighbouring city came full and close into view, divided from my
fairy-land of life but by the trodden murmurous thoroughfare winding low
beneath the ivied parapets; and as now, again, the world of men abruptly
vanished behind the screening foliage of luxuriant June.

At last the enchanted glade opened out from the verdure, its borders
fragrant with syringa and rose and woodbine; and there, by the gray
memorial of the gone Gothic age, my eyes seemed to close their unquiet
wanderings, resting spell-bound on that image which had become to me the
incarnation of earth's bloom and youth.

She stood amidst the Past, backed by the fragments of walls which man
had raised to seclude him from human passion, locking, under those lids
so downcast, the secret of the only knowledge I asked from the boundless
Future.

Ah! what mockery there is in that grand word, the world's fierce
war-cry,--Freedom! Who has not known one period of life, and that so
solemn that its shadows may rest over all life hereafter, when one
human creature has over him a sovereignty more supreme and absolute than
Orient servitude adores in the symbols of diadem and sceptre? What crest
so haughty that has not bowed before a hand which could exalt or humble!
What heart so dauntless that has not trembled to call forth the voice
at whose sound open the gates of rapture or despair! That life alone is
free which rules, and suffices for itself. That life we forfeit when we
love!

CHAPTER XVII.

How did I utter