“Just so, my dear Miss Goodwin; that is well expressed—­did love you; perhaps it may have been so; possessing anything like a heart, I don’t see how it could have been otherwise.”

“I will thank you, Mr. Woodward, to state what you have to say with as little circumlocution and ambiguity as possible.  Take me out of suspense, and let me know the worst.  Do not, I entreat you, keep me in a state of uncertainty.  Although I have acknowledged my love for your brother, in order to relieve myself from your addresses, which I could not encourage, still I am not without the pride of a woman who respects herself.”

“I am aware of that; but before I proceed, allow me to ask, in order that I may see my way the clearer, to what length did the expression of my brother’s affection go?”

“It went so far,” she replied, blushing, “as an avowal of mutual attachment; indeed, it might be called an engagement; but ever since the death of his cousin, and the estrangement of our families, he seems to have forgotten me.  It is very strange; when I was a portionless girl he was ardent and tender, but, ever since this unfortunate property came into my hands, he seems to have joined in the hard and unjust feeling of his family against me.  I have certainly met him since at parties, and on other occasions, but we met almost as strangers; he was not the Charles Lindsay whom I had known when I was comparatively a poor girl; he appeared to shrink from me.  In the meantime, as I have already confessed to you, he has my heart; and, so long as he has, I cannot encourage the addresses of any other man.”

Woodward paused, and looked upon her with well-feigned admiration and sorrow.

“The man is blind,” he at length said, “not only to the fascinations of your person and character, but to his own interests.  What is he in point of property?  Nothing.  He has no rich uncle at his back to establish him in life upon a scale, almost, of magnificence.  Why, it is since you came into this property that he ought to have urged his suit with greater earnestness.  I am speaking now like a man of the world, Miss Goodwin; and I am certain that he would have done so but for one fact, of which I am aware:  he has got into a low intrigue with a peasant’s daughter, who possesses an influence over him such as I have never witnessed.  She certainly is very beautiful, it is said; but of that I cannot speak, as I have not yet seen her; but I am afraid, Miss Goodwin, from all I hear, that a very little time will disclose her calamity and his guilt.  You will now understand what I felt yesterday when you made me acquainted with your pure and virtuous attachment to such a man; what shall I say,” he added, rising, and walking indignantly through the room, “to such a profligate?”

“Mr. Woodward,” replied Alice, “I can scarcely believe that; you must have been imposed on by some enemy of his.  Depend upon it you are.  I think I know Charles well—­too well to deem him capable of such profligacy; I will not believe it.”