As he spoke he pressed her closer to his bosom, but Juliet drew back and disengaged herself from his arms, still leaving her hand in his, however. "Morley, it must not, and it cannot be," she said. "What! would you have Juliet Carr fly from the house of her sick father, for the purpose of violating his express commands? Oh, no, Morley!--no, that can never be. You would despise me if I did it. But that is not the only obstacle, Morley; there are a thousand things that you will learn too soon, which would render it impossible for me to give you my hand now, even were I willing to forget my duty to my parent. Oh, no, no," she continued, while the tears which had ceased for a moment again burst forth from her eyes--"the time will come when you will hate me, Morley, when you will abhor the day that you first knew anything of me or mine. That--that is worse than anything to bear--to think that you should ever have cause to look upon the day that you met Juliet Carr, as the most unfortunate of your life." Morley Ernstein gazed upon her for a moment in silence, puzzled by the words she uttered; but at length he said--"What is it you mean, Juliet?--You are going to give your hand to another? Oh, Juliet Carr! beware, beware! Think upon the responsibility you draw upon your own head. Remember, you not only blast my happiness and peace for ever, but you take from me all confidence in virtue--all belief in honour--all trust in human love! You drive me to vice, to wickedness, perhaps to crime; you plunge me into that whirl of dissipation and folly, which is the only resource for reckless, hopeless, trustless despair.--Juliet, you are going to wed another, and ruin both yourself and me!"