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 "Think, Marrion, of what you say. Is it a sin for us to love?"

He could not answer at once—all the iron in his strong nature was broken down. His emotions, so long withheld, and now uncontrolled, were more than he could bear.

He looked long into her trusting countenance. He was seeking by a violent effort to master himself; but it was only by the heaving of his breast, and now and then a gasp for breath, that he betrayed the stormy struggle within.. Though his nature was full of the softer sympathies he could not call them to the front—he was but man. This was the crucial test.

There is in some affections so much to purify and exalt, that even an erring love, conceived without a cold design, and wrestled against with a noble spirit, leaves the heart more tolerant and tender if it leaves it in time.

"It may be wrong," he said, at length, "but this is our fate—our fate," as if waking from some hideous dream.

"We are creatures of destiny, I have fought this love but it would not die. The very loneliness of your existence appeals to me; but for that, I might have conquered."

"And your tender care and help have often