The day following these events, Miles had a long interview with Skaife, to whom he had become deeply indebted in gratitude for his efforts in his favour. A sincere friendship had sprung up between them, yet not without some bitterness to Skaife, who could not yet eradicate Minnie's thought from his heart. Though graven there in bitterness, he sincerely wished to make her happy, and felt she would, in all human probability, be so with Tremenhere--loving him, and so well beloved. But even this desire of promoting her happiness, made him conscientiously refuse to accede to a solicitation of Tremenhere's, namely, to perform a private marriage between them. It will be seen this latter's resolutions were fading away before the probable trouble before them--thus it occurred. On leaving Minnie the evening they met, as we have seen, he walked homeward in deep thought; the more he reflected upon her threatened removal, the more he trembled for the result. He did not know her sufficiently well--he deemed that, like most girls, though all affection then, once removed--persecuted, threatened, coerced--her spirit would give way, and she, perhaps, become the wife of his cousin--Minnie, his Minnie! It was a spiritualized madness the thought; for he felt it would haunt him even in the grave--that nothing could throw a veil of oblivion over it. He had never spoken _half_ his passionate love to her--he feared lest, in giving vent to it, it might master and carry him away to some deed he afterwards should bitterly regret--such, for instance, as eloping with her. His ideas of women, were more than ordinarily rigid, in young men. He had thought and suffered so much on his mother's account, in whose case, though he did not for an instant suspect her virtue, still, he feared there had been some imprudence--some laxity in necessary caution, to have created this long, and as yet unavailing, search for proof of her marriage. He fancied it had been private, or by some minister not of legal ordination--he scarcely knew what to imagine. And yet, in the face of all this--driven by the fear of losing Minnie, he implored Skaife to marry them privately. "I have yet one more effort to make," he said, "to gain her uncle's consent--if that fail me, then there will only be ourselves to rely upon." "Knowing you as I do, even in this short space of time," answered Skaife, "let me implore you _never_ to lead her, however slightly, from the path of duty. I know--I am sure--it would rise in your heart against her, some day." "I would not dream of it, except in an extreme case," said Tremenhere; "but if they take her away, what will my position then be? _There_ she will be under the eye of one--my cousin--who has the devil's cunning. They will act upon her heart in every way. Poor child!--what would she be in their hands?" "And what would your feelings then be, were she privately your wife? How could you endure in absence all she would be made to suffer?"