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212 and melancholy eyes seemed to look into her very heart, and his melodious voice sank on her ear like sad music. "Rebecca, I have deceived myself—I deemed my heart had but one idol, and my life but one aim; alas, I now find I have one object yet dearer! Alas, my very happiness has blinded me! I have grown so accustomed to see you, to hear you, to refer my every thought to you, that, like the blessed light and air, you have become part of  my existence: I cannot, I dare not think of a future without you. Rebecca, you know how earnestly I have laboured for one end—how high, how glorious, I have deemed the poet's calling. Rebecca, there is no honour my ambition could covet that I would not renounce for one smile of yours." He paused for a moment, and hid his face on the window-sill, while Rebecca stood breathless with distress and surprise. Lee recovered the power of utterance first. "De Vere—he will be Earl of Oxford—but no—you would not wed only for interest: yet, Rebecca, could we change places, would you still marry him?" She stood for a moment blushing and irresolute; at length she said in a low but firm voice, "I love himself." Lee gazed on her earnestly; and to her death Rebecca remembered the wild despair painted on his face. Gently he approached her, and took her