"But you were never good enough to marry either of us, my dear. If you will take a little time to reflect on your antecedents, you will acknowledge that you were not quite good enough to marry any honest man," said Mr. Fabian, coolly. "Yet you asked me to marry you," she said, sobbing softly, with her handkerchief to her eyes. "Beg pardon, my dear. I think the asking was rather on the other side. You were very urgent that we should be married, and that our betrothal should be formally announced." "Yes; because you led me to believe that you were going to marry me." "Excuse me. I never led you to believe so, simply allowed you to believe so. What could a gentleman do under the circumstances? He couldn't contradict a lady." "Oh, what a prevarication, Fabian Rockharrt, when every word, every deed, every look you bestowed on me went to assure me that you loved me and wished to marry me!" "Softly, my dear. Softly. I was sorry for you and generous to you. I gave you the use of a pretty little house and a sufficient income during good behavior. But you were ungrateful to me, Rose. You were unkind to me." "I was not. I would have married you. I could not have done more than that." "But, my dear, your good sense must have told you that I could not marry you. I have done the best I could by you always. Twice I rescued you from ruin. Once when you were but little more than a child, and your boy-lover, or husband, had left you alone, a young stranger in a strange land--a girl friendless, penniless, beautiful, and so in deadly peril of perdition, I took you on your own representation, and introduced you into my own family as the governess of my niece. I became responsible for you." "And did I not try my best to please everybody?" sobbed the woman. "That you did," heartily responded Mr. Fabian. "And everybody loved you. So that, at the end of five years' service, when my niece was to enter a finishing school, and you were to go to another situation, you took with you the best testimonials from my father and mother and from the minister of our parish. But you did not keep your second situation long." "How could I? I was but half taught. The Warrens would have had me teach their children French and German, and music on the harp and the piano. I knew no language but my own, and no music except that of the piano, which the dear, gentle lady, your mother, taught me out of the kindness of her heart. I was told that I must leave at the end of the term. And my term was nearly out when Captain Stillwater became a daily visitor to the house, and I saw him every evening. He was a tall, handsome man, with a dark complexion and black hair and beard. And I always did admire that sort of a man. Indeed, that was the reason why I always admired you." "Don't attempt to flatter me."