"At length," he continued, "I began to feel that marriage would be an addition to my happiness; and, accordingly, I cast my eyes round among the fair maidens of the village. They fell upon the unfortunate Jessie Renton. She lived within a few doors of me, and I had often seen and admired her in my walks. I thought I loved her--for, at that time, I had not learned what true love was--and offered to make her my wife. I dealt candidly and openly with her. In education, I need not say that I knew she was much beneath me; but she seemed warm-hearted and docile, and I thought it would be a loving pastime for me to make her my pupil. I was not ignorant, however, that she had other lovers; and, although she certainly encouraged my addresses, I saw reason to discontinue my suit. About this time, the awful event took place, the particulars of which are already known to you; and, simply because I had been abroad on the evening of the murder, and near the fatal spot, and partly, no doubt, from the circumstance of my attachment, which I had taken no pains to conceal, suspicion fastened upon me. I will not--indeed I cannot--tell you what laceration of feeling--what distraction of mind--I have since suffered. But you--you, O lady! is it wonderful that I should love you?--you who, when all the world was against me, spoke kindly to me?--you----forgive me, but I love--I adore you; day and night you have been my dream--my idol! But I rave; and yet, do not think me quite mad; for I know I am partly so, and madness knows not itself. O lady!--pardon me! but my heart will not let my tongue speak, lest it should wrong it--could my _heart_ speak, could"---- "Sir--sir!" interrupted Miss Manners; "this is frenzy! I beg, sir, you will desist. So sudden--so"---- "Sudden!" exclaimed Jones. "My love may have been sudden; but, for weeks, for months, it has taken possession of me. But, pardon me, madam," he added, in a calmer tone. "Do not mistake me. I know too well that I dare not hope; but an humble offering may be laid upon a lofty shrine. All I ask is your compassion; say only you pity me, and I shall embalm the words in my memory for ever!" Miss Manners _did_ pity him; but begged him, as he valued his own happiness, to banish from his mind all such thoughts as he had expressed. "Ah, madam," said he, "ask me to part with life, and I may obey you; but, while life remains, I never can cease to love you." They had now reached the entrance to the garden; and Miss Manners held out her hand, saying-- "Good night." Jones took the hand. There was no glove on it; and, gently raising it, he pressed it to his lips. "Madam," he articulated, "good night; farewell. While you are asleep, I shall be thinking of you. On this road, gazing on the window of the room in which I think you are, I shall enjoy more rest than anywhere else I can go."