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my life you do—a coquette of the first urban water! They blow hot and blow cold, just as you do; and it is the very last sort of thing to expect to find in a retreat like Valbothays. . . . And yet, dearest,’ he quickly added, observing how the remark had cut her, ‘I know you to be the most honest, spotless creature that ever lived. So how can I suppose you a flirt? Tess, why don’t you like the idea of being my wife, if you love me as you seem to do?’

‘I have never said I don’t like the idea, and I never could say it; because—it isn’t true!’

The stress now getting beyond endurance her lip quivered, and she was obliged to go away. Clare was so pained and perplexed that he ran after and caught her in the passage.

‘Tell me, tell me!’ he said, passionately clasping her, in forgetfulness of his curdy hands, ‘do tell me that you won’t belong to anybody but me!’

‘I will, I will tell you!’ she exclaimed. ‘And I will give you a complete answer, if you will let me go now. I will tell you my experiences—all about myself—all!’

‘Your experiences, dear; yes, certainly; any