"Why is it to be Captain Aylmer? What have I done that you should use me in this way? It was not I who,--who,--made you unhappy at Aylmer Park." "I will not go back to that. It is of no use. Pray get up. It shocks me to see you in this way." "Tell me, then, that it is once more all right between us. Say that, and I shall be happier than I ever was before;--yes, than I ever was before. I know how much I love you now, how sore it would be to lose you. I have been wrong. I had not thought enough of that, but I will think of it now." She found that the task before her was very difficult,--so difficult that she almost broke down in performing it. It would have been so easy and, for the moment, so pleasant to have yielded. He had his hand upon her arm, having attempted to take her hand. In preventing that she had succeeded, but she could not altogether make herself free from him without rising. For a moment she had paused,--paused as though she were about to yield. For a moment, as he looked into her eyes, he had thought that he would again be victorious. Perhaps there was something in his glance, some too visible return of triumph to his eyes, which warned her of her danger. "No!" she said, getting up and walking away from him; "no!" "And what does 'no' mean, Clara?" Then he also rose, and stood leaning on the table. "Does it mean that you will be forsworn?" "It means this,--that I will not come between you and your mother; that I will not be taken into a family in which I am scorned; that I will not go to Aylmer Park myself or be the means of preventing you from going there." "There need be no question of Aylmer Park." "There shall be none!" "But, so much being allowed, you will be my wife?" "No, Captain Aylmer;--no. I cannot be your wife. Do not press it further; you must know that on such a subject I would think much before I answered you. I have thought much, and I know that I am right." "And your promised word is to go for nothing?" "If it will comfort you to say so, you may say it. If you do not perceive that the mistake made between us has been as much your mistake as mine, and has injured me more than it has injured you, I will not remind you of it,--will never remind you of it after this." "But there has been no mistake,--and there shall be no injury." "Ah, Captain Aylmer! you do not understand; you cannot understand. I would not for worlds reproach you; but do you think I suffered nothing from your mother?" "And must I pay for her sins?" "There shall be no paying, no punishment, and no reproaches. There shall be none at least from me. But,--do not think that I speak in anger or in pride,--I will not marry into Lady Aylmer's family." "This is too bad,--too bad! After all that is past, it is too bad!" "What can I say? Would you advise me to do that which would make us both wretched?" "It would not make me wretched. It would make me happy. It would satisfy me altogether."