'That was before I went to the Melmottes. I am sure you have altered
your opinion now. Indeed you have told me so. I am afraid, Mr Carbury,
you must go your way, and we must go ours.'

He looked into her face as she spoke, and gradually began to perceive
the working of her mind. He was so true to himself that he did not
understand that there should be with her even that violet-coloured
tinge of prevarication which women assume as an additional charm.
Could she really have thought that he was attending to his own
possible future interests when he warned her as to the making of new
acquaintances?

'For myself.' he said, putting out his hand and making a slight vain
effort to get hold of hers, 'I have only one wish in the world; and
that is, to travel the same road with you. I do not say that you ought
to wish it too; but you ought to know that I am sincere. When I spoke
of the Melmottes did you believe that I was thinking of myself?'

'Oh no;--how should I?'

'I was speaking to you then as to a cousin who might regard me as an
elder brother. No contact with legions of Melmottes could make you
other to me than the woman on whom my heart has settled. Even were you
in truth disgraced could disgrace touch one so pure as you it would be
the same. I love you so well that I have already taken you for better
or for worse. I cannot change. My nature is too stubborn for such
changes. Have you a word to say to comfort me?' She turned away her
head, but did not answer him at once. 'Do you understand how much I am
in need of comfort?'