Gerard Hope smiled. "Even than my love: Alice, you like me more than you admit. Unsay your words, my dearest, and give me hope." "Do not vex me," she resumed, in a pained tone; "do not seek to turn me from my duty. I--I--though I scarcely like to speak of these sacred things, Gerard--_I have put my hand to the plough_: even you cannot turn me back." He did not answer; he only played with the hand he held between both of his. "Tell me one thing, Gerard: it will be safe. Was not the dispute about Frances Chenevix?" He contracted his brow; and nodded. "And you could refuse her! You must learn to love her, for she would make you a good wife." "Much chance there is now of my making a wife of any one!" "Oh, this will blow over in time: I feel it will. Meanwhile----" "Meanwhile you destroy every hopeful feeling I thought to take with me to cheer me in my exile," was his impatient interruption. "I love you alone, Alice; I have loved you for months, nay years, truly, fervently; and I know that you must have seen that I did." "Love me still, Gerard," she softly answered; "but not with the love you would give to one of earth: the love you will give--I hope--to Frances Chenevix. Think of me as one rapidly going; soon to be gone." "Oh, not yet!" he cried in an imploring tone, as if it were to be as she willed. "Not just yet: I hope to see you return from exile. Let us say farewell while we are alone." She spoke the last sentence hurriedly, for footsteps were heard. Gerard snatched her to him, and laid his face upon hers. "What cover did you say the book had?" demanded Frances Chenevix of Gerard, who was then leaning back on the sofa, apparently waiting for her. "A mottled? I cannot see one anything like it." "No? I am sorry to have given you the trouble, Fanny. It has gone, perhaps, amongst the 'have-beens.'" "Listen," said Alice, removing her hand from before her face, "I hear a carriage stopping. Can they have come home?" Frances and Gerard flew into the next room, whence the street could be seen. A carriage had stopped, but not at their house. "It is too early for them yet," said Gerard. "I am sorry things go so cross just now with you, Gerard," whispered Lady Frances. "You will be very dull over there." "Ay; fit to hang myself, if you knew all. And the bracelet may turn up, and Lady Sarah be sporting it on her arm again, and I never know that the cloud is off me. No chance that any of you will be at the trouble of writing to a fellow." "I will," said Frances. "Whether the bracelet turns up, or not, I will write to you sometimes, if you like, Gerard, and give you all the news." "You are a good girl, Fanny," returned he, in a brighter accent, "and I will send you my address as soon as I possess one. You are not to turn proud, mind, and be off the bargain, if you find it to be in a fish-market, au cinquième." Frances laughed. "Take care of yourself, Gerard."