ct：　the　worse；　because　they　touched　on　the　truth。　That　bloodless　lip　quivered　to　a　temporary　spasm。　I　knew　the　steely　ire　I　had　whetted。　I　was　heart…wrung。

“You　utterly　misinterpret　my　words；”　I　said；　at　once　seizing　his　hand：　“I　have　no　intention　to　grieve　or　pain　you—indeed；　I　have　not。”

Most　bitterly　he　smiled—most　decidedly　he　withdrew　his　hand　from　mine。　“And　now　you　recall　your　promise；　and　will　not　go　to　India　at　all；　I　presume？”　said　he；　after　a　considerable　pause。

“Yes；　I　will；　as　your　assistant；”　I　answered。

A　very　long　silence　succeeded。　What　struggle　there　was　in　him　between　Nature　and　Grace　in　this　interval；　I　cannot　tell：　only　singular　gleams　scintillated　in　his　eyes；　and　strange　shadows　passed　over　his　face。　He　spoke　at　last。

“I　before　proved　to　you　the　absurdity　of　a　single　woman　of　your　age　proposing　to　acpany　abroad　a　single　man　of　mine。　I　proved　it　to　you　in　such　terms　as；　I　should　have　thought；　would　have　prevented　your　ever　again　alluding　to　the　plan。　That　you　have　done　so；　I　regret—for　your　sake。”

I　interrupted　him。　Anything　like　a　tangible　reproach　gave　me　courage　at　once。　“Keep　to　mon　sense；　St。　John：　you　are　verging　on　nonsense。　You　pretend　to　be　shocked　by　what　I　have　said。　You　are　not　really　shocked：　for；　with　your　superior　mind；　you　cannot　be　either　so　dull　or　so　conceited　as　to　misunderstand　my　meaning。　I　say　again；　I　will　be　your　curate；　if　you　like；　but　never　your　wife。”

Again　he　turned　lividly　pa