his resolution by the rumours he had heard of her past life, and as to
his uncertainty about her husband. If Mr Hurtle were alive, certainly
then he would not be a liar because he did not marry Mrs Hurtle. He
did not think himself to be a liar, but he was not at once ready with
his defence. 'Oh, Paul,' she said, changing at once into softness,--'I
am pleading to you for my life. Oh, that I could make you feel that I
am pleading for my life. Have you given a promise to this lady also?'

'No,' said he. 'I have given no promise.'

'But she loves you?'

'She has never said so.'

'You have told her of your love?'

'Never.'

'There is nothing, then, between you? And you would put her against
me,--some woman who has nothing to suffer, no cause of complaint,
who, for aught you know, cares nothing for you. Is that so?'

'I suppose it is,' said Paul.

'Then you may still be mine. Oh, Paul, come back to me. Will any woman
love you as I do,--live for you as I do? Think what I have done in
coming here, where I have no friend,--not a single friend,--unless you are
a friend. Listen to me. I have told the woman here that I am engaged
to marry you.'