"
"Miles, my kind and manly brother, listen to me," Grace rejoined,
fervently pressing one of my hands in both of hers, and scarcely able
to command herself, through alarm. "All thoughts of anger, of
resentment, of pride even, must be forgotten. You owe it to my sex,
to the dreadful imputations that might otherwise rest on my name--had
I anything to reproach myself with as a woman. I could submit to
_any_ punishment; but surely, surely, it is not a sin so
unpardonable to be unable to command the affections, that I deserve to
have my name, after I shall be dead, mixed up with rumours connected
with such a quarrel. You have lived as brothers, too--then there is
good, excellent, truthful, pious Mr. Hardinge; who is yet _my_
guardian, you know; and Lucy, dear, true-hearted, faithful Lucy--"
"Why is not dear, true-hearted, faithful Lucy, here, watching over
you, Grace, at this very moment?" I demanded, huskily.
"She knows nothing of my situation--it is a secret, as well as its
cause, from all but God, myself, and you. Ah! I knew it would be
impossible to deceive your love, Miles! which has ever been to me,
all that a sister could desire."
"And Lucy! how has _her_ affection been deceived?--Has she too,
eyes only for those she has recently learned to admire?"
"You do her injustice, brother.
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