things against me--there are better-looking fellows than I--and--and a
great many things--and I know very well that you will judge for
yourself--quite differently from other girls; and I can't say with what
fear and hope I await what you may say; but this you may be sure of, you
will never find anyone to love you better, Rachel--I think so
well--and--and now--that is all. Do you think you could _ever_ like me?'

But Rachel's hand, on a sudden, with a slight quiver, was drawn from his.

'Lord Chelford, I can't describe how grateful I am, and how astonished,
but it could never be--no--never.'

'Rachel, perhaps you mean my mother--I have told her everything--she will
receive you with all the respect you so well deserve; and with all her
faults, she loves me, and will love you still more.'

'No, Lord Chelford, no.' She was pale now, and looking very sadly in his
eyes. 'It is not that, but only that you must never, never speak of it
again.'

'Oh! Rachel, darling, you must not say that--I love you so--so
_desperately_, you don't know.'

'I can say nothing else, Lord Chelford. My mind is quite made up--I am
inexpressibly grateful--you will never know how grateful--but except as a
friend--and won't you still be my friend?--I never can regard you.'

Rachel was so pale that her very lips were white as she spoke this in a
melancholy but very firm way.