my own? Did I not leave this house and go away,--till I could earn
for you one that should be fit for you,--because I loved you? Why
should I have broken my word? I do not believe that you thought
that it was broken.'

'By my God, that knows me, I did!' As she said this she burst into
tears and fell on her knees at his feet.

'Marie,' he said, 'Marie;--there is no use in this. Stand up.'

'Not till you tell me that you will forgive me. By the name of the
good Jesus, who knows all our hearts, I thought that you had
forgotten me. O George, if you could know all! If you could know
how I have loved you; how I have sorrowed from day to day because I
was forgotten! How I have struggled to bear it, telling myself that
you were away, with all the world to interest you, and not like me,
a poor girl in a village, with no thing to think of but my lover!
How I have striven to do my duty by my uncle, and have obeyed him,
because,--because,--because, there was nothing left. If you could
know it all! If you could know it all!' Then she clasped her arms
round his legs, and hid her face upon his feet.

'And whom do you love now?' he asked. She continued to sob, but did
not answer him a word. Then he stooped down and raised her to her
feet, and she stood beside him, very near to him with her face
averted. 'And whom do you love now?' he asked again. 'Is it me, or
is it Adrian Urmand?' But she could not answer him, though she had
said enough in her passionate sorrow to make any answer to such a
question unnecessary, as far as knowledge on the subject might be
required. It might suit his views that she should confess the truth