I know what you would say." "It is yours." "The house, and all within, I covet," he said, uneasily.

"Let that suffice.

I have quarrelled with your brother--I have quarrelled with one who just now fancies he loves you." "Charles Holland loves me truly." "It does not suit me now to dispute that point with you.

I have the means of knowing more of the secrets of the human heart than common men.
I tell you, Flora Bannerworth, that he who talks to you of love, loves you not but with the fleeting fancy of a boy; and there is one who hides deep in his heart a world of passion, one who has never spoken to you of love, and yet who loves you with a love as far surpassing the evanescent fancy of this boy Holland, as does the mighty ocean the most placid lake that ever basked in idleness beneath a summer's sun." There was a wonderful fascination in the manner now of Varney.

His voice sounded like music itself.