And now Mr. Broune's mouth was opened, and his voice was free. "Lady Carbury," he said, "I have lived a long time without marrying, and I have sometimes thought that it would be better for me to go on in the same way to the end. I have worked so hard all my life that when I was young I had no time to think of love. And, as I have gone on, my mind has been so fully employed, that I have hardly realised the want which nevertheless I have felt. And so it has been with me till I fancied, not that I was too old for love, but that others would think me so. Then I met you. As I said at first, perhaps with scant gallantry, you also are not as young as you once were. But you keep the beauty of your youth, and the energy, and something of the freshness of a young heart. And I have come to love you. I speak with absolute frankness, risking your anger. I have doubted much before I resolved upon this. It is so hard to know the nature of another person. But I think I understand yours;--and if you can confide your happiness with me, I am prepared to intrust mine to your keeping." Poor Mr. Broune! Though endowed with gifts peculiarly adapted for the editing of a daily newspaper, he could have had but little capacity for reading a woman's character when he talked of the freshness of Lady Carbury's young mind! And he must have surely been much blinded by love, before convincing himself that he could trust his happiness to such keeping. "You do me infinite honour. You pay me a great compliment," ejaculated Lady Carbury. "Well?" "How am I to answer you at a moment? I expected nothing of this. As God is to be my judge it has come upon me like a dream. I look upon your position as almost the highest in England,--on your prosperity as the uttermost that can be achieved." "That prosperity, such as it is, I desire most anxiously to share with you." "You tell me so;--but I can hardly yet believe it. And then how am I to know my own feelings so suddenly? Marriage as I have found it, Mr. Broune, has not been happy. I have suffered much. I have been wounded in every joint, hurt in every nerve,--tortured till I could hardly endure my punishment. At last I got my liberty, and to that I have looked for happiness." "Has it made you happy?" "It has made me less wretched. And there is so much to be considered! I have a son and a daughter, Mr. Broune." "Your daughter I can love as my own. I think I prove my devotion to you when I say that I am willing for your sake to encounter the troubles which may attend your son's future career."