"I cannot say good-bye, Miss Neville." All the love he felt for her was welling up into his heart, and striving to be heard. He must speak. "I cannot let you go thus," he said, "had you remained it would have been otherwise, and I would not have opened my heart to you yet; but, as it is, I cannot help myself. Miss Neville, I never loved any woman till I saw you--never thought I could do so. I had but a poor opinion of your sex. Had not my mother deserted me, and was not that enough to fill my heart with hatred and bitterness? There is a mystery shadowing my birth, which seems to me to be growing darker and darker every day. I have no claim even to the very name I bear, and cannot tell you who my parents are; perhaps this silence is better than the knowledge that they live, and are ashamed to own me. I thought I was too proud to ask any woman to overlook that, and vowed I never would; but then I trifled with them all, even with you. Do you remember the flower I sent by Fanny? how many a sleepless night has the remembrance of that folly cost me? But, knowing all I have now told you, all that at times drives me to the solitude of my lonely home, and distracting thoughts, will you come and comfort me,--pity me--love me? Amy, I love you with all my heart. Will you be my wife?" He could not see her face, the light was too uncertain, and she stood in the shade; but he felt that she trembled as she withdrew her hand from his. Yes, it was even so. Amy was quite prepared when he began, to say she did not love him; but he claimed her pity, and her woman's heart felt for him at once. "Will you let me love you, care for you, Amy, as never woman was loved or cared for before? Speak to me, Amy, say one word--one word of hope." But Amy could give none. "I am sorry," she replied, falteringly, "believe me, deeply sorry; but hope? Alas, Mr. Vavasour, I can give you none." "You do not love me?" he asked, sorrowfully. "I like you, have always liked you. You have been so kind to me, the only one almost who has; and I have felt grateful for that--it would be strange if I were not; but I do not love you," she said softly, fearing the pain she was causing. "I have been premature in asking your love, I know. I have had so little opportunity of winning it, how could I expect you would love me with scarcely any wooing at all. May I ask you one question, Miss Neville? I feel I have no right to ask it, and it may be a death-blow to my hopes?" "Yes," replied Amy. How could she refuse, and he so sad and heart-broken. "Forgive me; but has another claimed your love?" "No. No other has ever spoken to me of love, or loved me," she said sadly.