“So you imagine, but I can see further. Do you know, Fan, that you cannot give your heart to two persons; that if you give your whole heart to this lady you think so beautiful and so kind, and who will be paid for her kindness, that her gain will be my loss?” Fan, full of strange trouble, put her trembling hand on the other's hand. “Tell me how it will be your loss, Mary,” she said. “I don't think I understand.” “I was everything to you before, Fan. I don't want a divided affection, and I shall not share your affection with this woman, however beautiful and kind she may be; or, rather, I shall not be satisfied with what is over after you have begun to worship her. Your love is a kind of worship, Fan, and you cannot possibly have that feeling for more than one person, although you will find it easy enough to transfer it from one to another. If you do not quite understand me yet, you must think it over and try to find out what I mean. But I warn you, Fan, that if ever you transfer the affection you have felt for me to this woman, or this girl, then you shall cease to be anything to me. You shall be no more to me than you were before I first saw you and felt a strange wish to take you to my heart; when you were in rags and half-starved, and without one friend in the world.” The tears started to the girl's eyes, and she threw her arms round the other's neck. “Oh, Mary, nothing, nothing will ever make me love you less! Will you not believe me, Mary?” “Yes, dear Fan, don't cry. Good-bye, my darling. Write to me at least once every fortnight, and when you want money or anything let me know, and you shall have it. And when May comes round again let me see you unchanged in heart, but with an improved mind and a little colour in your dear pale face.”