I cannot, I dare not be yours, while such a dreadful circumstance is hanging over me, Charles; if a more rational explanation than the hideous one which my own fancy gives to the form that visits me can be found, find it, and rescue me from despair and from madness." They had now reached the summer-house, and as Flora uttered these words she threw herself on to a seat, and covering her beautiful face with her hands, she sobbed convulsively.
"You have spoken," said Charles, dejectedly.

"I have heard that which you wished to say to me." "No, no.

Not all, Charles." "I will be patient, then, although what more you may have to add should tear my very heart-strings." "I--I have to add, Charles," she said, in a tremulous voice, "that justice, religion, mercy--every human attribute which bears the name of virtue, calls loudly upon me no longer to hold you to vows made under different auspices." "Go on, Flora." "I then implore you, Charles, finding me what I am, to leave me to the fate which it has pleased Heaven to cast upon me.

I do not ask you, Charles, not to love me." "'Tis well.

Go on, Flora." "Because I should like to think that, although I might never see you more, you loved me still.