"Dear Maria, it is growing dark, and I do not think you would wish me to stay longer with you at present; but yet, before I go--for we may not easily, perhaps, find such a moment of happy privacy for a long time--let me say that, which some words which have been spoken to-day induce me to say sooner than I otherwise would have done----" "Oh! we shall easily find moments to converse," replied Maria, catching at the first pause, and making a great effort to delay what she was sure would overcome her. "Nay, not so," answered Henry; "I must not leave you now doubtful as to any part of my conduct." He gazed at her for a moment, earnestly, tenderly; and as by the faint light he saw her eyes cast down, her glowing cheek and trembling form, he went on rapidly. "You know me too well, Maria--you judge me, and have ever judged me, too nobly--to suppose that I would seek to bind you to the fate of an exile, an outcast, or even a suspected man. I ask you not to tell me any of your own feelings towards me--I ask you not even to say one word of your own situation. Your heart--your hand even--may be engaged to some happier man----" "Oh, no! no!" she cried; "no!" The words rushed from her heart, burst from her lips, without the act of her will; but she felt that she had never loved till then, and they would be spoken. "Thank God!" said Henry, in a low voice, and then added, "well, then, dearest Maria, my mind is made up. I will cast this load from me--I will clear myself of all doubt, if it be in human power to do so; and if it be done--if I stand before the whole world exculpated from all charges but of deep, perhaps too deep, devotion to a father, then I will tell you how Henry Hayley has loved and thought of you from boyhood till now; how he loves you still--how he will love you till his last hour. You will find that his course has not been dishonourable or inglorious, and you shall decide whether he is to be as happy as his boyish dreams once pictured. And now, farewell for the present." He pressed his lips upon her hand, and was departing; but a soft, low, musical voice caught his ear ere he reached the door. "Henry," it said, "oh, not yet, Henry! do not leave me yet." Henry Hayley turned at once, and seated himself beside her; he took her hand, and it remained in his, and when he at length departed, the sky was quite dark, but his heart had daylight in itself. CHAPTER XI.