"Ruin you for ever, Margaret!" said Geoffrey, stealing his arm round her waist as she still stood by the mantelshelf; "O no, not ruin you, dearest Margaret--" "Ah, Mr. Ludlow," she interrupted, neither withdrawing from nor yielding to his arm, "have I not reason to say ruin? Can I fail to see that you have taken an interest in me which--which--" "Which nothing you have told me can alter--which I shall preserve, please God," said Geoff, in all simplicity and sincerity, "to the end of my life." She looked at him as he said these words with a fixed regard, half of wonder, half of real unfeigned earnest admiration. "I--I'm a very bad hand at talking, Margaret, and know I ought to say a great deal for which I can't find words. You see," he continued, with a grave smile, "I'm not a young man now, and I suppose one finds it more difficult to express oneself about--about such matters. But I'm going to ask you--to--to share my lot--to be my wife!" Her heart gave one great bound within her breast, and her face was paler than ever, as she said: "Your wife! your wife! Do you know what you are saying, Mr. Ludlow? or is it I who, as the worldling, must point out to you--" "I know all," said Geoffrey, raising his hand deprecatingly; but she would not be silenced. "I must point out to you what you would bring upon yourself--what you would have to endure. The story of my life is known to you and to you alone; not another living soul has ever heard it. My mother died while I was in Italy; and of--the other person--nothing has ever been heard since his flight. So far, then, I do not fear that my--my shame--we will use the accepted term--would be flung in your teeth, or that you would be made to wince under any thing that might be said about me. But you would know the facts yourself; you could not hide them from your own heart; they would be ever present to you; and in introducing me to your friends, your relatives, if you have any, you would feel that--" "I don't think we need go into that, Margaret. I see how right and how honourable are your motives for saying all this; but I have thought it over, and do not attach one grain of importance to it. If you say 'yes' to me, we shall live for ourselves, and with a very few friends who will appreciate us for ourselves. Ah, I was going to say that to you. I'm not rich, Margaret, and your life would, I'm afraid, be dull. A small income and a small house, and--" "It would be my home, and I should have you;" and for the first time during the interview she gave him one of her long dreamy looks out of her half-shut eyes. "Then you will say 'yes,' dearest?" asked Geoff passionately. "Ah, how can I refuse! how can I deny myself such happiness as you hold out to me after the misery I have zone through!" "Ah, darling, you shall forget that--"