perplexity, mingled with anger she dared not show.
"I cannot renounce what is dearer than life," she muttered in a low, hurried tone. Then, suddenly raising her head and fixing her gleaming eyes upon me, she continued earnestly, "But Helen—or Mrs. Huntingdon, or whatever you would have me call you—will you tell him? If you are generous, here is a fitting opportunity for the exercise of your magnanimity: if you are proud, here am I—your rival—ready to acknowledge myself your debtor for an act of the most noble forbearance."
"I shall not tell him."
"You will not!" cried she delightedly. "Accept my sincere thanks, then!"
She sprang up, and offered me her hand. I drew back.
"Give me no thanks; it is not for your sake that I refrain. Neither is it an act of any forbearance: I have no wish to publish your
