"Listen to me!" said Ruth, now that the idea of what he proposed had entered her mind. "When I said that I was happy with you long ago, I was choked with shame as I said it. And yet it may be a vain, false excuse that I make for myself. I was very young; I did not know how such a life was against God's pure and holy will--at least, not as I know it now; and I tell you truth--all the days of my years since I have gone about with a stain on my hidden soul--a stain which made me loathe myself, and envy those who stood spotless and undefiled; which made me shrink from my child--from Mr Benson, from his sister, from the innocent girls whom I teach--nay, even I have cowered away from God Himself; and what I did wrong then, I did blindly to what I should do now if I listened to you." She was so strongly agitated that she put her hands over her face, and sobbed without restraint. Then, taking them away, she looked at him with a glowing face, and beautiful, honest, wet eyes, and tried to speak calmly, as she asked if she needed to stay longer (she would have gone away at once but that she thought of Leonard, and wished to hear all that his father might have to say). He was so struck anew by her beauty, and understood her so little, that he believed that she only required a little more urging to consent to what he wished; for in all she had said there was no trace of the anger and resentment for his desertion of her, which he had expected would be a prominent feature--the greatest obstacle he had to encounter. The deep sense of penitence she expressed, he mistook for earthly shame; which he imagined he could soon soothe away. "Yes, I have much more to say. I have not said half. I cannot tell you how fondly I will--how fondly I do love you--how my life shall be spent in ministering to your wishes. Money, I see--I know, you despise--" "Mr Bellingham! I will not stay to hear you speak to me so again. I have been sinful, but it is not you who should--" She could not speak, she was so choking with passionate sorrow. He wanted to calm her, as he saw her shaken with repressed sobs. He put his hand on her arm. She shook it off impatiently, and moved away in an instant. "Ruth!" said he, nettled by her action of repugnance, "I begin to think you never loved me." "I!--I never loved you! Do you dare to say so?" Her eyes flamed on him as she spoke. Her red, round lip curled into beautiful contempt. "Why do you shrink so from me?" said he, in his turn getting impatient. "I did not come here to be spoken to in this way," said she. "I came, if by any chance I could do Leonard good. I would submit to many humiliations for his sake--but to no more from you." "Are not you afraid to brave me so?" said he. "Don't you know how much you are in my power?"