Blanche's confession. 155 



Don't fear me, dear girl ; I will not presume on your confi- 

 dence." 



Blanche, without saying another word, closed the door, and 

 returned trembling to his side, sitting down on a chair near 

 him. 



" You fear being left alone with me, Blanche, because you 

 apprehend a renewal of that subject, which from this day shall 

 not again escape my lips. My poor father, the other night, in 

 his excited state, placed your hand in mine, hoping and believ- 

 ing our love was mutual, and at the moment, no doubt, dear 

 Blanche, your gratitude exercised a powerful influence over 

 your feelings ; but, dearly as I prize it, on such terms I could 

 never accept the hand of Blanche Douglas. Gratitude must not 

 be mistaken for love ; and until such time as the excitement 

 under which you then acted is entirely removed, I will not 

 renew the subject nearest my heart — it would be ungenerous 

 and unfair in me to do so. Moreover, you are young and 

 inexperienced in the world, and I will not be so selfish as to 

 fetter you with an engagement to myself before you have had a 

 fair opportunity of judging whether, on mixing more in society, 

 you could still prefer me to all others." 



" Then, William," said Blanche, sadly, " you do not love me 

 as you have professed to do." 



" Not love you, my own dear, darling girl ! " exclaimed 

 Beauchamp, starting up and seizing her hand, "dearer, fifty 

 times dearer, than my own life do I love you, and you only; 

 and here I vow that no other but this dear hand shall ever be 

 joined with that of William Beauchamp. You are my first and 

 only love — the only one of womankind who has ever been 

 pressed to my heart — the first and last." 



" Oh, dear William, then why should you doubt my love for 

 you, or think me less constant than yourself ? " 



" I don't doubt you, dear girl, but feared gratitude might 

 now influence you." 



" William, you are only now wishing me to confess I felt 

 love for you before gratitude ; so, to relieve your mind from all 

 further anxiety in your present state of suffering, I will make 

 that confession. Dear William," she said, blushing, "I have 

 indeed long loved you, and can never love another." 



The words had scarcely passed her lips, before she was 

 caught in his arms and pressed to his heart in a long embrace. 



" This happiness quite overpowers me," he whispered ; " a 

 thousand thanks, my own, very own, dearest Blanche, for your 



