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212 no sudden burst of resentment, no girlish pique that he might sooth with flattery and professions. "A most generous impulse, Edward, led you to protect an oppressed orphan; and I thought the devotion of my heart and my life were a small return to you. It is but a few months since. Is not love an engrossing passion? But what sacrifices have you made to it? Oh, Edward! if in the youth and spring of your affection, I have not had more power over you, what can I hope from the future?"

"Hope!—believe every thing, Jane. I will be as plastic as wax, in your hands. You shall mould me as you will."

"No, Edward; I have tried my power over you, and found it wanting. Broken confidence cannot be restored." "Jane, you are rash; you are giving up independence—protection. If you reject me, who will defend you from your aunt? Do you forget that you are still in her power?"

"No," replied Jane; "but I have the defence of innocence, and I do not fear her. It was not your protection, it was not independence I sought, it was a refuge in your affection;—that has failed me. Oh, Edward!" she continued, rising, "examine your heart as I have examined mine, and you will find the tie is dissolved that bound us; there can be no enduring love without sympathy; our feelings, our pursuits, our plans, our inclinations, are all diverse."

"You are unkind, ungrateful, Jane."