Then, alarmed at my agitation, he begged me not to put myself in such a passion, telling me I was white in the face, and should kill myself if I did so.
'Let me go, then,' I murmured; and immediately he released me--and it was well he did, for I was really in a passion.

I sank into the easy-chair and endeavoured to compose myself, for I wanted to speak to him calmly.
He stood beside me, but did not venture to touch me or to speak for a few seconds; then, approaching a little nearer, he dropped on one knee--not in mock humility, but to bring himself nearer my level, and leaning his hand on the arm of the chair, he began in a low voice: 'It is all nonsense, Helen--a jest, a mere nothing--not worth a thought.

Will you never learn,' he continued more boldly, 'that you have nothing to fear from me?
that I love you wholly and entirely ?--or if,' he added with a lurking smile, 'I ever give a thought to another, you may well spare it, for those fancies are here and gone like a flash of lightning, while my love for you burns on steadily, and for ever, like the sun.

You little exorbitant tyrant, will not that-- ?' 'Be quiet a moment, will you, Arthur ?' said I, 'and listen to me--and don't think I'm in a jealous fury: I am perfectly calm.

Feel my hand.' And I gravely extended it towards him--but closed it upon his with an energy that seemed to disprove the assertion, and made him smile.