for some moments silent--then, starting upright, "I'll never claim a penny
from her--I'll give it all up to you! I will, if I sell my band for it, by
Jove!"

"Oh! what has your father to answer for, who forced you into the church!"
thought Alfred.

"My dear Buckhurst," said he, "my dear dean--"

"Call me Buckhurst, if you love me."

"I do love you, it is impossible to help it, in spite of--"

"All my faults--say it out--say it out--in spite of your conscience," added
Buckhurst, trying to laugh.

"Not in spite of my conscience, but in favour of yours," said Alfred,
"against whose better dictates you have been compelled all your life to
act."

"I have so, but that's over. What remains to be done at present? I am in
real distress for five hundred pounds. Apropos to your being engaged in
this dilapidation suit, you can speak to Mrs. Falconer about it. Tell her I
have given up the thing; and see what she will do."

Alfred promised he would speak to Mrs. Falconer. "And, Alfred, when you
see your sister Caroline, tell her that I am not in one sense such a
wretch--quite, as she thinks me. But tell her that I am yet a greater
wretch--infinitely more miserable than she, I hope, can conceive--beyond
redemption--beyond endurance miserable." He turned away hastily in an agony