did?"--said he, letting it fall, and leaning against the
mantle-piece as if forgetting he was to go.

Elinor assured him that she did;--that she forgave,
pitied, wished him well--was even interested in his
happiness--and added some gentle counsel as to the
behaviour most likely to promote it. His answer was
not very encouraging.

"As to that," said he, "I must rub through the world
as well as I can. Domestic happiness is out of the
question. If, however, I am allowed to think that you
and yours feel an interest in my fate and actions, it may
be the means--it may put me on my guard--at least, it
will be something to live for. Marianne to be sure is
lost to me for ever. Were I even by any blessed chance
at liberty again"-----

Elinor stopped him with a reproof.

"Well"--he replied--" once more good bye. I shall
now go away and live in dread of one event."

"What do you mean?"

"Your sister's marriage."

"You are very wrong. She can never be more lost to
you than she is now."

"But she will be gained by some one else. And if that
some one should be the very he whom, of all others,
I could least bear-----But I will not stay to rob myself
of all your compassionate good-will, by shewing that
where I have most injured I can least forgive. Good
bye,--God bless you!"

And with these words, he almost ran out of the room.

-332-