py as his wife. To be the wife of such a man
was, in Dorothy's estimation, one of those blessed chances which come
to some women, but which she never regarded as being within her own
reach. Though she had thought much about him, she had never thought
of him as a possible possession for herself; and now that he was
offering himself to her, she was not at once made happy by his love.
Her ideas of herself and of her life were all dislocated for the
moment, and she required to be alone, that she might set herself in
order, and try herself all over, and find whether her bones were
broken. "Say that you believe me," he repeated.

[Illustration: The world was going round with Dorothy.]

"I don't know what to say," she whispered.

"I'll tell you what to say. Say at once that you will be my wife."

"I can't say that, Mr. Burgess."

"Why not? Do you mean that you cannot love me?"

"I think, if you please, I'll go up to Aunt Stanbury. It is time for
me; indeed it is; and she will be wondering, and Martha will be put
out. Indeed I must go up."

"And will you not answer me?"

"I don't know what to say. You must give me a little time to
consider. I don't quite think you're serious."

"Heaven and earth!" began Brooke.

"And I'm sure it would never do. At any rate, I must go now. I must,
indeed."

And so she escaped, and went up to her aunt's room, which she reached
at ten minutes after her usual time, and before Martha had begun
to be put out. She was very civil to Martha, as though Martha had
been injured; and she put her hand on her aunt's arm, with a soft,
caressing, apologetic touch, feeling conscious that she had given
cause for offence. "What has he been saying to you?" said her aunt,
as soon as Martha had closed the door. This was a question which
Dorothy, certainly, could not answer. Miss Stanbury meant nothing
by it,--nothing beyond a sick woman's desire that something of the
conversation of those who were not sick should be retailed to her;
but to Dorothy the question meant so much! How should her aunt have
known that he had said anything? She sat herself down and waited,
giving no answer to the question. "I hope he gets his meals
comfortably," said Miss Stanbury.

"I am sure he does," said Dorothy, infinitely relieved. Then, knowing
how important it was that her aunt should sleep, she took up the
volume of Jeremy Taylor, and, with so great a burden on her mind,
she went on painfully and distinctly wit