"I have had a letter from Sir Hastings this afternoon.

And," rebelliously, "I haven't answered it yet." "Then you shall answer it now," says the professor.

"And you shall say 'no' to him." "Why?
Because you order me ?" "Partly because of that.

Partly because I trust to your own instincts to see the wisdom of so doing." "Ah! you beg the question," says he, "but I'm not so sure I shall obey you for all that." "Perpetua! Do not speak to me like that, I implore you," says the professor, very pale.

"Do you think I am not saying all this for your good?
Sir Hastings--he is my brother--it is hard for me to explain myself, but he will not make you happy." "Happy! _You_ think of my happiness ?" "Of what else ?" A strange yearning look comes into his eyes.