For a few moments she made no reply, but looked at me very long--very wistfully, with no passion in those dear eyes, only a despair that was so great that it chilled me into speechless terror. "No, no," she cried at last, covering her face with her white hands, as though in shame, and bursting into a flood of tears. "You do not know all--I pray that you, the man I love so fondly, may never know! If you knew you would hate me and curse my memory. Therefore take back those words, and forget me--yes, forget--for I am not fit to be your wife!" CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE. BY THE TYRRHENIAN WATERS. Ella was all mine--all mine! Mine all the glad fearless freedom of her life; mine all the sweet kisses, the rapturous tenderness, the priceless passion of her love; mine all! And I had lost them. The grave had given her back for those brief hours, but she was, alas! dead to me. I stood there as a man in a dream. I, athirst for the sound of her sweet voice as dying men in deserts for the fountains of lost lands. But all was silence, save the lark trilling his song high above me in the morning air. I turned upon my heel, and went forward a changed man. At the inn I made further inquiries regarding the tenant of the "Glen." The stout yellow-haired maid-of-all-work who brought me in my breakfast was a native of the village and inclined to be talkative. From her I learned that Mr Gordon-Wright had had the place about four years. He spent only about three months or so each summer there, going abroad each year for the winter. To the poor he was always very good; he was chairman of the Flower Show Committee, chairman of the Parish Council, and one of the school managers as well as a church-warden. I smiled within myself at what the girl told me. He was evidently a popular man in Upper Wooton. He had friends to stay with him sometimes, mostly men. Once or twice he had had foreign gentlemen among his visitors--gentlemen who had been in the post-office and could not speak English. "My sister was 'ousemaid there till last Michaelmas," she added. "So I've often been up to the `Glen'. When old Mrs Auker had it she used to 'ave us girls of the Friendly Society there to tea on the lawn." "I think that a friend of mine comes to visit Mr Gordon-Wright sometimes. His name is Miller. Do you remember him?" "Mr Miller--a tall middle-aged gentleman. Of course, sir. 'E was here in the spring. I remember the name because 'e and Mr Wright gave a treat to the school children." "Was a lady with him--a young lady?" "Yes, sir. His daughter, Miss Lucie." The girl knew little else, except, as she declared, Mr Gordon-Wright was a rich man and "a thorough gentleman."