t and—it  do.”

    “It ly  not y, fraternity, if you like; a neope’s respect and submission to : not fear.”

    “It is ,” o  is just . And tacles in t be  repent marrying me—be certain of t;  be married. I repeat it: tedly enougo render t even in your eyes.”

    “I scorn your idea of love,” I could not ood before  terfeit sentiment you offer: yes, St. Jo.”

    me fixedly, compressing  lips   easy to tell: enance thoroughly.

    “I scarcely expected to  expression from you,” tered noto deserve scorn.”

    I oucle tone, and overawed by his high, calm mien.

    “Forgive me t. Jo it is your o t I o speak so unguardedly. You roduced a topic on  variance—a topic y .”

    “No,” said  is a long-c end: but I s present. to-morronigake t space of time to consider my offer: and do not forget t if you reject it, it is not me you deny, but God. to you a noble career; as my er upon it. Refuse to be my  yourself for ever to a track of selfisy. tremble lest in t case you shan infidels!”

    urning from me, he once more

    “Looked to river, looked to hill.”

    But time  in : I  o tered. As I oment of an austere and despotic nature, ance ed submission—tion of a cool, inflexible judgment, ed in anot o sympat, as a man, o coerce me into obedience: it ly y, and alloion and repentance.

    t niger ers,  proper to forget even to s left t by t t tears started to my eyes.

    “I see you and St. Jo go after ing you— up.”

    I  mucances: I er ood at t of tai