But the Pleasure was gone. At least, there was so much Pain overlying it, that it was crushed down and smothered, and struggling to get free of its Burthen. Then I asked myself what this was about, and whither could it tend, and what had I lost that I had had before, that made me seem a different _Ned Osborne_? Also, why did I bring Shame on myself and bring Master _Hewet's_ keen Observance on me by such and such a Blunder in my daily Charge? Was his Eye altering towards me? Would it not needs alter, did he wit the foolish, impossible Things I spent the best (the _worst_) of my Time in dreaming of? Oh! my Heart would not bear it! There was Something eating its Way into my Soul, as a Weevil gnaws its Way into a Garner. —No, this could not go on. I thought over it and took my Part; and after watching and letting slip many Opportunities, I at length, in Desperation, took the very first that came next, and stood beside Master _Hewet_ at his Desk when I wist that no Other was or would soon be within Earshot; and said, "Master, I must go." "Whither, Lad?" quod he, surprised, yet kindly,—"On some Errand of thine own about the Town?" I tried to get back my Voice, it faltered so!—and said, "Away ... away from here." "Art ill?" quod he, laying down his Pen, and suddenly looking full at me. "Dost thou want to go for a While into the Country?" "No," I said, "I must go seek another Service." "Another Service?" repeated he, with a yet more piercing Look.—"This is strange ... and sudden. We thought you were so happy." "I was," said I. "Only—" "Only what?" And he waited: but I spake never a Word mo'. "I see how it is!" cried he, suddenly growing red, "Master _Groggett_ hath tempted thee away from me, with Promise of higher Salary. Pitiful Fellow! I wot he hath long envied me a faithful Servant. 'Tis against our Company's Ordinance, to tempt a Man from his Master! Go, however, since thou wilt, ungrateful Youth!—thy Fidelity hath been undermined; thou hast never apprized our Kindness, hast never loved us!" This unloosed my Tongue, and I said, "I have felt, if I have not deserved your Kindness, Master _Hewet_. No one hath tempted, nor could tempt me away, and I but seek to go for that I love you e'en too well." "How can you love us too well?" quod he distrustfully. —"_One_ of you," I said, faltering. "_Anne_?" cried he. And saw it in my Face. —"Well, Lad," quod he, softer, "no Need to blush scarlet nor weep, where no Shame lieth. _That_ would be in _not_ loving her, I think. You may love too much, you can't love too well." "Too well for my Peace," quod I, turning my Head away—"You had better let me go." "Well, I think not," quod he, after a Pause of some Length. "Go to what? To another House, where Everything will be worse for thee, save that _Anne_ will be not only out of Reach but out of Sight. You must perforce conquer yourself _then_, you know. Try to conquer yourself _now_."