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 could command himself. Her look, her manner—all told him too certainly that which overcame his heart with delight.—"She loves me," he thought, "and I will die sooner than yield her to any human being:—she loves me; and, regardless of fears—of prudence—of every other feeling, he pressed her one moment to his bosom. "Oh love me, Calantha," was all he had time to say; for she broke from him, and fled, too much agitated to reply. That he had presumed too far, he feared; but that she was not indifferent to him, he had heard and seen. The thought filled him with hope, and rendered him callous to all that might befall him.

The Duke entered the room as Calantha quitted it.—"Avondale," he said, offering him his hand, "speak to me, for I wish much to converse with you before we part:—all I ask is, that you will not deceive me. Something more than common has taken place:—I observed you