"But I regret much that you should have borrowed a tradesman's money, and more that you should have offered to pay the debt by marrying his daughter." Through it all, however, there was a feeling present to Sir Thomas that he was, in truth, angry with the Squire of Newton, not so much for his misconduct in coming to propose to Mary so soon after the affair with Polly Neefit, but because he had not come to propose to Clarissa. And Sir Thomas knew that such a feeling, if it did really exist, must be overcome. Mary was entitled to her chance, and must make the best of it. He would not refuse his sanction to a marriage with his niece on account of Ralph's misconduct, when he would have sanctioned a marriage with his own daughter in spite of that misconduct. The conversation was ended by Sir Thomas leaving the room with a promise that Miss Bonner should be sent to fill his place. In five minutes Miss Bonner was there. She entered the room very slowly, with a countenance that was almost savage, and during the few minutes that she remained there she did not sit down. "Sir Thomas has told you why I am here?" he said, advancing towards her, and taking her hand. "No; that is;--no. He has not told me." "Mary--" "Mr. Newton, my name is Miss Bonner." "And must it between us be so cold as that?" He still had her by the hand, which she did not at the moment attempt to withdraw. "I have come to tell you, at the first moment that was possible to me after my uncle's death, that of all women in the world I love you the best." Then she withdrew her hand. "Mr. Newton, I am sorry to hear you say so;--very sorry." "Why should you be sorry? If you are unkind to me like this, there may be reason why I should be sorry. I shall, indeed, be very sorry. Since I first saw you, I have hoped that you would be my wife." "I never can be your wife, Mr. Newton." "Why not? Have I done anything to offend you? Being here as one of the family you must know enough of my affairs to feel sure,--that I have come to you the first moment that was possible. I did not dare to come when I thought that my position was one that was not worthy of you." "It would have been the same at any time," said Mary. "And why should you reject me,--like this; without a moment's thought?" "For two reasons," said Mary, slowly, and then she paused, as though doubting whether she would continue her speech, or give the two reasons which now guided her. But he stood, looking into her face, waiting for them. "In the first place," she said, "I think you are untrue to another person." Then she paused again, as though asking herself whether that reason would not suffice. But she resolved that she would be bold, and give the other. "In the next place, my heart is not my own to give." "Is it so?" asked Ralph. "I have said as much as can be necessary,--perhaps more, and I would rather go now." Then she left the room with the same slow, stately step, and he saw her no more on that day.