He let go my hand, and seemed to be struggling with himself: at last he said, "Ellen, if you mean that you feel now that you cared more for Henry Lovell than at one time you fancied, if there is still some affection for him in your heart, it is no doubt a painful trial for me to hear it; but if you tell me so frankly, and at once, I shall not cease to respect you, nor to love you." (His voice trembled as he said these last words.) "I shall leave you for a time; you must soon, you will soon, conquer these feelings; and then--perhaps--only tell me the truth, Ellen--the only thing that could destroy my love would be, if you ever had, if you ever could, deceive me." "You cannot love me; it is vain to talk of love to _me!_" I exclaimed, "I have told you so; I cannot be your wife; why do you ask me anything else? Leave me! for God's sake leave me! I am miserable enough as it is." "Ellen! Ellen! with such feelings as these, how could you speak to me of Henry and of his marriage as you did?" "Henry! I am not thinking of Henry; I am not talking of Henry; I do not care for him; I do not love him, I never did: I should not be so wretched, perhaps, if I had." Edward remained silent for a moment, and then said, with a deep sigh-- "Would to God, Ellen, that there was _truth_ in you! It is equally difficult to believe and to disbelieve you." "Think not of me; leave me, Edward, leave me. I _have_ told you the truth. I do not care for Henry; I solemnly protest to you that I do not; but I cannot be your wife--_that_ is the truth, too." "Then why these tears?" said Edward, sternly. "Why all this _acting?_ Why cannot you tell me calmly, and at once, that you care not for me, instead of deluding me into the belief that you do, at the very moment when you refuse me." Suffocated with grief, I hid my face in my hands while he spoke; and said to myself, "_Acting_ he calls it! Oh, God! he calls me an _actress!_ He says there is no truth in me! How then would he listen to my tale of guilt and of sorrow? How then could he read truth in my broken accents? How could he discern the workings of a proud and wounded spirit?" I raised my head slowly--Edward was gone; I rushed to the door to call him back, but was met by the servant, who was come to answer the drawing-room bell. My uncle and aunt came into the room at the same time, and I retired to mine, to pass another night betwixt hours of waking misery, and moments of broken and feverish sleep.