understood her at last. "You despise me," he said, "and I deserve
it."

"No; I despise myself. I have lived among vile people; and I am
vile like them."

She moved a few steps away with a heavy sigh. "Kitty!" she said
to herself. "Poor little Kitty!"

He followed her. "Why are you thinking of the child," he asked,
"at such a time as this?"

She replied without returning or looking round; distrust of
herself had inspired her with terror of Linley, from the time
when the bracelet had dropped on the grass.

"I can make but one atonement," she said. "We must see each other
no more. I must say good-by to Kitty--I must go. Help me to
submit to my hard lot--I must go."

He set her no example of resignation; he shrank from the prospect
that she presented to him.

"Where are you to go if you leave us?" he asked.

"Away from England! The further away from _you_ the better for
both of us. Help me with your interest; have me sent to the new
world in the west, with other emigrants. Give me something to
look forward to that is not shame and despair. Let me do
something that is innocent and good--I may find a trace of my