“What must I do?” at last sighed Dora. “I sometimes think of going into a convent; if I were only a Roman Catholic, I would.” “My dear Dora!” “Then,” continued the willful little penitent, “I think of telling Mr. Ufford that I love another, and so getting him to give me up. What do you think of that?” “I do not know.” “Hilary, would you, for all the riches and titles in the world, marry any other than Captain Hepburn? tell me.” “Certainly not; I could not.” “Nor will I than Maurice; our cases are exactly similar.” “Not quite.” “Yes, they are; we each love one, and that feeling makes it wrong to engage ourselves to another. There is no difference.” “A little. I have my father’s consent to my affection and engagement. If I had not, I should try to obtain it.” “And if you could not?” “I should try to conquer my affection.” “What! and leave your lover to suppose you faithless, changeable, treacherous? I will not.” “Yes. If it is not right to love, it matters little what he thinks of you, in comparison of doing right. Your duty is to conquer an improper, unauthorized affection, and the sooner the better.” “But it is not improper; it is right to love as I do.” “Then tell your father, Dora.” “I dare not――_he_ will not think it right.” “Nay, then it is wrong.” “Cruel, cruel Hilary!” “I am sorry to seem so, dear Dora; but it appears to me so plain. There are but two things to do. Own your attachment and abide by the consequences; or conquer it, and give Maurice up entirely.” “I have nothing to give up; I am not bound to him, nor he to me, except in unalterable affection. That is all.” “A most unhappy affection. How much better for you both, if you could renounce it entirely. Continued as it is, it can only make you discontented, miserable, unable to adopt any path in life. If you could but overcome and forget it!” “And marry Mr. Ufford? Never!” Hilary was silent again. “I never thought to hear such words from you, Hilary,” continued Dora. “Have you no regard for honor and principle, that you advise me to marry without love? have you no affection left for Maurice that you bid me abandon him? none for me, that you desire me to perjure myself? Oh, shame, shame on you, Hilary! You do not deserve to be Maurice’s sister.” “I do not deserve such reproaches,” replied Miss Duncan steadily, looking at her friend’s glowing face, as she started to her feet before her. “I never proposed, or prompted such ideas.” “What did you mean, then?”