possess very much; that I might make him the owner of it all.
And instead, I was going to give him as poor a wife as ever he
could have picked up in the farm-houses of the North. Yes, I
cared. I found I cared much. And though there was not, of
course, any wavering of my judgment as to what was right, I
found that to do the right would cost me something; more than
I could have thought possible; and to tell Mr. Thorold of it
all, was the same as doing it. I walked down a good many
bitter regrets, of pride or affection; I think both were at
work; before I dismissed the matter from my mind that night.

I think I had walked a good part of the night while I was
cogitating these things and trying to bring my thoughts into
order respecting them. While I was at last preparing for
sleep, I reflected on yet another thing. I always looked back
to that evening at Miss Cardigan's with a mixture of feelings.
Glad, and sorrowful, and wondering, and grateful, as I was in
the remembrance, with all that was mingled a little
displeasure and disapproval of myself for that I had allowed
Mr. Thorold so much liberty, and had been quite so free in my
disclosures to him of my own mind. I did not know how it had
happened. It was not like me. I ought to have kept him more at
a distance, kindly of course. One, or two, kisses - my cheek
burnt at the thought - were the utmost he should have been
allowed; and I ought to have been more reserved, and without
denying the truth, to have kept myself more in my own power. I
resolved I would do it in the future. I would keep my own
place. Mr. Thorold might indeed know what he was to me and
what I was to him; I did not mean to hide that; but he must be
satisfied with knowing it and not take any liberties with the