The words affected Rona. She contrasted his behavior with that of his brother, as was inevitable. The rich man, who had so much to offer, had held back, in order that her choice might be free and deliberate. Her other suitor, the almost beggar, caught her, worked upon her gratitude, bound her by a promise at an age when she was not able to give a valid one. The thought of the deception which she had practiced upon this good, generous friend for two years weighed down her spirit. How little he had known her--the chivalrous, unworldly man, who had taken her on trust, knowing nothing of her antecedents! The real King Cophetua can never have seen, in the eyes of his beggar maid, a look of more fervent gratitude and admiration than Rona lifted to her suitor's face. Of love, as between man and woman, she knew nothing at all. His gentle and affectionate interest was just the thing to appeal to her. And marriage with him would mean life at Normansgrave--life in safety and honor, and clean, open-eyed peace: life undisturbed by secrets, and dark Brotherhoods, and sinister memories. It seemed to her that Denzil stood in sunlight, beckoning her; while, from some dark tunnel, David stretched out hands to drag her down. There was bewilderment and vain regret in her voice as she told her lover: "Oh, you are good, you are good to me! There never was such a good man as you!" No words could have been more sweet in his ears. He thought her quite right. He felt sure that he was a good, just man. And she had the insight to perceive it. No doubt marriages are made in heaven. Rona had been sent, bruised and maltreated, lying in a canal barge, to his door, to be the consolation of Providence for his undeserved misfortune in having a suicide brother. Ah, what a relief it would be to tell her all about his early manhood, and the tragedy of Felix's disgrace! "Then--then--you do? You will?" he stammered. "Thank Heaven, my darling! I feared perhaps you might think me too old and grave. But with you I shall grow young again----" She checked him as, taking her hands, he made a movement as if to draw her nearer. "Oh, stop! Wait!" she gasped, falteringly, her head spinning with the excitement of the situation, which seemed to be carrying her away. "There is something I must tell you first--something you must hear. I don't know how to tell you.... Oh, Mr. Vanston, if only I had been perfectly frank with you from the first! You will be so--so disappointed in me. I feel as if--as if I dare not tell you!" She stopped, for the effort to speak seemed likely to choke her. Denzil's face grew pale with apprehension. His heart knocked loudly. What was he about to hear? "Wait," he said, kindly, but with a slight difference from his former tenderness of manner; "don't speak until you can do so without distressing yourself----"