'
Jane waited, her eyes still east down.
'I feel that it may seem to you an ill-chosen time; but the very
fact that I have just been the bearer of such sad news impels me to
speak. I cannot keep the promise that I would never revive the
subject on which I spoke to you not long ago. Forgive me; I _must_
ask you again if you cannot think of me as I wish? Miss Snowdon,
will you let me devote myself to making your life happy? It has
always seemed to me that if I could attain a position such as I now
have, there would be little else to ask for. I began life poor and
half-educated, and you cannot imagine the difficulties I have
overcome. But if I go away from this house, and leave you so lonely,
living such a hard life, there will be very little satisfaction for
me in my success. Let me try to make for you a happiness such as you
merit. It may seem as if we were very slightly acquainted, but I
know you well enough to esteem you more highly than any women I ever
met, and if you could but think of me--'
He was sincere. Jane had brought out the best in him. With the death
of Snowdon all his disreputable past seemed swept away, and he had
no thought of anything but a decent rectitude, a cleanly enjoyment
of existence, for the future.
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