not know the new claims on me, my altered position, how I am bound, or
you would be the last to speak thus to me, the first to give me courage,
and bid me--bid me--"

"Bid you what?"

"Feel nothing here but duty!" cried Helen, drawing from his clasp both
her hands, and placing them firmly on her breast.

"Miss Digby," said Leonard, after a short pause of bitter reflection, in
which he wronged, while he thought to divine, her meaning, "you speak of
new claims on you, your altered position--I comprehend. You may retain
some tender remembrance of the past; but your duty now is to rebuke my
presumption. It is as I thought and feared. This vain reputation which
I have made is but a hollow sound,--it gives me no rank, assures me no
fortune. I have no right to look for the Helen of old in the Helen of
to-day. Be it so--forget what I have said, and forgive me."

This reproach stung to the quick the heart to which it appealed. A flash
brightened the meek, tearful eyes, almost like the flash of resentment;
her lips writhed in torture, and she felt as if all other pain were light
compared with the anguish that Leonard could impute to her motives which
to her simple nature seemed so unworthy of her, and so galling to
himself.

A word rushed as by inspiration to her lip, and that word calmed and
soothed her.

"Brother!" she said touchingly, "brother!"