"I didn't mean to speak of my own feelings.

It is Helen I want to talk about." Perhaps some flash of memory brought her face before his eyes.

"Sit down," he added brusquely,--"you look tired;" and indeed the pallor of John's face was deadly.
The rector, in his impatience, sat on the edge of his chair, one plump fist resting on the table, and the other hand clenched on the head of his cane.

His arguments and entreaties were equally divided, but he resolutely checked the denunciations which trembled upon his lips.

John answered him almost tenderly; his own grief was not so absorbing that he could be indifferent to the danger of a man who set the opinion of the world before the solemn obligations of his profession.