“God—bless—you, David Lindsay,” she added, faltering. “And you, too! God bless you, Gloria,” he answered. She went out of the room; but as she turned to shut the door, she caught sight of his face. It wore a look of weary sorrow, such as he never would have willingly permitted her to see; and suddenly she sat down her candle on the hall bench, ran back into the room, threw her arms around his neck and kissed his forehead, sobbing forth the words: “Oh, David Lindsay, I am so sorry—so sorry! But I can’t help it. Indeed, I can’t, dear David Lindsay!” With a look of ineffable tenderness, he put his arm around her waist and drew her close to his heart, and would have returned her kiss, but she suddenly broke from him, and ran out of the room. She caught up her candle from the hall table, flew up stairs to her own chamber, shut the door, and flung herself down on the bed in a passion of tears. “Oh-h-h! what a hard, cold, proud wretch I am! What a cruel, wicked, unnatural monster! But I cannot help it! I cannot! I don’t want to be married—I do not. I love David Lindsay! I do love him, dearly, dearly, dearly; I always did love him better than anybody else in the whole world. Ah! who is so good and grand as he is, within himself? No one that I ever saw in this world. No one that I ever read of. But I don’t want to be his wife! I don’t want to be anybody’s wife! Oh, I wish I had stayed at the Sacred Heart, with the quiet sisters there!” She was interrupted in her passionate vehemence of self-reproaches and lamentations by the sound of light footsteps and cheerful voices approaching her door, and finally by a rapping at the same. She arose, composed herself as well as she could and went and opened to Mrs. Brent and Philippa, who had come to bid her good-night, and to ask if she would need anything more before they should retire to bed. Gloria thanked them and said that she would require nothing. “And if you should, you have only to knock on the door between us to let me know, for you see our room is just back of yours here,” added the housekeeper. “I will remember,” replied Gloria, in a low tone. “I suppose Mr. Lindsay will not want anything. I reckon he’ll be up before long. I left him sitting before the big parlor fire,” remarked Mrs. Brent. “I dare say,” answered Gloria, so wearily that the housekeeper bade her good-night and retired, followed by Philippa, who, since their fearful adventure in the cavern under the cellar, had been strangely silent and reserved. Gloria locked her door leading into the hall and bolted the one leading into the rear room occupied by the housekeeper. Then she replenished her fire from a box of wood that sat on one side of the hearth, and also threw on a number of resinous pine knots and cones, that their bright blaze might light up the large, gloomy chamber. Having done this, she proceeded to examine her room more carefully than she had yet done.