I so uated assertion.

    “You see no?” inued. “After a youtterable misery and ude, I  time found ruly love—I ter self—my good angel. I am bound to you rong attac. I ted, lovely: a fervent, a solemn passion is conceived in my ; it leans to you, drao my centre and spring of life, ence about you, and, kindling in pure, powerful flame, fuses you and me in one.

    “It  and kne I resolved to marry you. to tell me t I y mockery: you kno I  a o attempt to deceive you; but I feared a stubbornness t exists in your cer. I feared early instilled prejudice: I ed to o your nobleness and magnanimity at first, as I do noo you plainly my life of agony—described to you my  after a ence—so you, not my resolution (t  my resistless bent to love faiturn. to accept my pledge of fidelity and to give me yours. Jane—give it me now.”

    A pause.

    “, Jane?”

    I errible moment: full of struggle, blackness, burning! Not a  ever lived could ter tely olerable duty—“Depart!”

    “Jane, you understand  of you? Just ter.’”

    “Mr. Rocer, I  be yours.”

    Another long silence.

    “Jane!” recommenced leness t broke me dourned me stone-cold error—for till voice  of a lion rising—“Jane, do you mean to go one o let me go another?”

    “I do.”

    “Jane” (bending to now?”

    “I do.”

    “And noly kissing my forehead and cheek.

    “I do,” extricating myself from restraint rapidly and completely.

    “Oter! t  be o love me.”

    “It o obey you.”