I hurt you by speaking thus frankly; but your good name rests with yourself, and your friends cannot but feel angry that you should trifle with it." "Madam," said Clifford; and Lucy's eyes, now growing accustomed to the darkness, perceived a bitter smile upon his lips, "my name, good or ill, is an object of little care to me.

I have read of philosophers who pride themselves in placing no value in the opinions of the world.

Rank me among that sect.

But I am--I own I am--anxious that you alone, of all the world, should not despise me; and now that I feel you do, that you must, everything worth living or hoping for is past!" "Despise you!" said Lucy, and her eyes filled with tears; "indeed you wrong me and yourself.

But listen to me, Mr.Clifford.I have seen, it is true, but little of the world, yet I have seen enough to make me wish I could have lived in retirement forever.