"At first sight I could hardly believe my senses, for though, after all, there was nothing so very extraordinary in his having returned to England, yet I fancied that he had gone away for some years, and I had lately hardly ever even thought about him. "He was much changed, though it is not easy to describe in what way the alteration struck me. I had always been rather afraid of him, and I felt the fear now even more strongly than in the past. Yet his face, as he came nearer, bore no expression of severity, but only kindliness and pity. "’You are surprised to see me, Vera,’ he said; ’but you know I promised always to help you, and have, therefore, come now.’ "’I am delighted to see you back,’ I answered, holding out my hand to him. ’But why did you not write? My father will be delighted! You must come and see him at once.’ "’Not now,’ he replied, ’I only came to talk to you, and must go directly. Moreover, I do not wish you even to mention that you have seen me.’ "Saying this he sat down by my side, and I, wondering greatly why he had come, said-- "’Oh! I shall not hear of your going! You must tell me all about your travels. But, first of all, what made you fancy that I required your help now? You have already done so much for me it is difficult to imagine what further assistance so lucky a girl can need.’ "’Perhaps,’ he said, ’I have done too much. It is often the case that those who would help, by their very effort to do so, only hinder. But tell me, are you happy?’ "As he said this he looked into my eyes, and there was something in his look which seemed to open my heart so that I could see what I had never fully known before. I tried to speak, but could not; then burying my face in my hands I wept. He placed his hand upon my head, and at his touch a feeling of rest and calm stole over me. "Then he said--’Vera, why will you turn into the way of trouble? I have tried again and again to save you, but it is impossible to help one who wilfully, or even heedlessly, chooses that road which can only lead to sorrow. Every step taken over it has to be retrodden, and the smooth pathway will then be overgrown with thorns; the light of passion will have died out, and in weariness and darkness each step must be one of uncertainty and pain. I know how you have endeavoured to blind your eyes by false reasoning which can never help you, but the day of self-revelation always comes. You would argue that it is not your fault if men fall in love with your beauty, and that, placed in your position, it is more than usually difficult to act. But there is one thing that can always guide us--if, leaving our own position out of the question, and, caring nothing about our own salvation or our own end, we think but of others--of how each action will affect their lives. "Love and do as you like," said one of earth’s noblest men. But it must be true love.