’I did not venture to declare to you—no, not even to allow you to suspect—what was passing within me. I am a gentleman of high and honourable feelings. I knew that I had allowed myself, through inadvertence, to become entangled in an engagement to a person whom I could regard, but could not love. All at once I became aware that my heart was elsewhere. I proceeded, however, as an honourable man, to fulfil that which I had undertaken. What my misery was, you can ill conceive. I saw the fatal day approach with feelings of disgust and despair. That day would bind me for life to an uncongenial companion, and separate me for ever from her whom I felt, whom I knew, to be essential to my happiness. Is it a marvel that, when circumstances occurred which arrested the marriage, I felt relief? Is it to be wondered at that now I feel a doubt whether I ought to go further in this matter? Ask yourself, am I further tied—in duty—in honour? Can I conscientiously marry a girl whom I do not love, whom I have even come to regard with repugnance, with whom I can never be happy, and whose whole life will be embittered by the knowledge that though she has my name and my hand, she has not gained my heart? No, Mirelle; dear, dearest Mirelle, no!’ ’Stay—in heaven’s name, stay!’ gasped Mirelle. ’You must not speak to me thus.’ ’Why not?’ ’I must ask you a question,’ she said, and wiped the cold dew from her lips and brow. ’I must ask of you a favour.’ ’Ask me anything; it is yours.’ ’Captain Trecarrel, this is Christmas Day. After eight days I shall belong to another. I ask you—allow me to be married in Trecarrel Chapel.’ Her heart beat so fast that it took away her breath. She was unable to proceed. Captain Trecarrel’s blue eyes opened with amazement. He could not believe his ears. ’I shall be married to—John Herring.’ Then she sank back in the coach, and threw her handkerchief over her face. The wheels rattled over the pavement of the street. ’Stop!’ shouted the Captain. ’Damnation! stop!’ He got out. ’Drive on hard to Dolbeare, coachman; the young lady has fainted.’ So the coach rattled through the marketplace and along the High Street, whilst the bells rang merrily, merrily, Glad tidings of great joy! Roast beef and plum pudding and mince-pies to those who can afford it; to the poor—nothing. END OF THE SECOND VOLUME. LONDON: PRINTED BY SPOTTISWOODE AND CO., NEW-STREET SQUARE AND PARLIAMENT STREET * * * * * * * * *ILLUSTRATED EDITIONS* *OF* *POPULAR WORKS* Handsomely bound in cloth gilt, each volume containing Four Illustrations. Crown 8vo. 3s. 6d. THE SMALL HOUSE AT ALLINGTON. By ANTHONY TROLLOPE. FRAMLEY PARSONAGE. By ANTHONY TROLLOPE.