"What is that?" And Jean's dark eyes were fixed upon him, full of

innocent wonder.

His fell, and he said hastily, "I dare not tell you yet."

"Pardon! I should not have asked. Do not consult me in this matter; I am

not the person to advise you. I can only say that it seems to me as if

any man with an empty heart would be glad to have so beautiful a woman

as your cousin."

"My heart is not empty," began Coventry, drawing a step nearer, and

speaking in a passionate voice. "Jean, I must speak; hear me. I cannot

love my cousin, because I love you."

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"Stop!" And Jean sprang up with a commanding gesture. "I will not hear

you while any promise binds you to another. Remember your mother's

wishes, Lucia's hopes, Edward's last words, your own pride, my humble

lot. You forget yourself, Mr. Coventry. Think well before you speak,

weigh the cost of this act, and recollect who I am before you insult me

by any transient passion, any false vows."

"I have thought, I do weigh the cost, and I swear that I desire to woo

you as humbly, honestly as I would any lady in the land. You speak of my

pride. Do I stoop in loving my equal in rank? You speak of your lowly

lot, but poverty is no disgrace, and the courage with which you bear it

makes it beautiful. I should have broken with Lucia before I spoke, but

I could not control myself. My mother loves you, and will be happy in my

happiness. Edward must forgive me, for I have tried to do my best, but

love is irresistible. Tell me, Jean, is there any hope for me?"

He had seized her hand and was speaking impetuously, with ardent face

and tender tone, but no answer came, for as Jean turned her eloquent

countenance toward him, full of maiden shame and timid love, Dean's prim

figure appeared at the door, and her harsh voice broke the momentary

silence, saying, sternly, "Miss Beaufort is waiting for you, sir."

"Go, go at once, and be kind, for my sake, Gerald," whispered Jean, far

he stood as if deaf and blind to everything but her voice, her face.

As she drew his head down to whisper, her cheek touched his, and

regardless of Dean, he kissed it, passionately, whispering back, "My

little Jean! For your sake I can be anything."

"Miss Beaufort is waiting. Shall I say you will come, sir?" demanded

Dean, pale and grim with indignation.

"Yes, yes, I'll come. Wait for me in the garden, Jean." And Coventry

hurried away, in no mood for the interview but anxious to have it over.

As the door closed behind him, Dean walked up to Miss Muir, trembling

with anger, and laying a heavy hand on her arm, she said below her

breath, "I've been expecting this, you artful creature. I saw your game

and did my best to spoil it, but you are too quick for me. You think

you've got him. There you are mistaken; for as sure as my name is Hester

Dean, I'll prevent it, or Sir John shall."




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