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Managing Engineering, Procurement, Construction,
and Commissioning Projects
Managing Engineering, Procurement,
Construction, and Commissioning Projects

A Chemical Engineer’s Guide

Avinashkumar V. Karre
Author All books published by WILEY-VCH are carefully
produced. Nevertheless, authors, editors, and
Avinashkumar V. Karre publisher do not warrant the information
Worley Group Inc. contained in these books, including this book,
4949 Esssen Lane to be free of errors. Readers are advised to keep
70809 Baton Rouge LA in mind that statements, data, illustrations,
United States procedural details or other items may
inadvertently be inaccurate.
Cover Image: © nostal6ie/Shutterstock

Contents in this book are solely based on Library of Congress Card No.: applied for
the author’s extensive work experience
and knowledge. If part of the book or British Library Cataloguing-in-Publication Data
some contents match with the external A catalogue record for this book is available
source, it would be considered merely a from the British Library.
coincidence.
Bibliographic information published by
the Deutsche Nationalbibliothek
The Deutsche Nationalbibliothek lists
this publication in the Deutsche
Nationalbibliografie; detailed bibliographic
data are available on the Internet at
<http://dnb.d-nb.de>.

© 2023 WILEY-VCH GmbH, Boschstr. 12,

69469 Weinheim, Germany

All rights reserved (including those of

translation into other languages). No part of
this book may be reproduced in any form – by
photoprinting, microfilm, or any other
means – nor transmitted or translated into a
machine language without written permission
from the publishers. Registered names,
trademarks, etc. used in this book, even when
not specifically marked as such, are not to be
considered unprotected by law.

Print ISBN: 978-3-527-34836-7

ePDF ISBN: 978-3-527-82974-3
ePub ISBN: 978-3-527-82973-6
oBook ISBN: 978-3-527-82972-9

Typesetting Straive, Chennai, India

v

Contents

Preface xi

Part I Introduction to EPCC Industry 1

1 Introduction 3
1.1 What Is EPCC Industry 3
1.2 Types of Projects 4
1.2.1 Cost of a Project 5
1.2.2 Purpose of a Project 7
1.2.3 Engineering Needs 8
1.2.4 Licensors Need 8
1.2.5 Profit Based 8
1.2.6 Schedule Based 9
1.3 Function of Different Disciplines 9
1.4 Different Phases of the Project 11
1.5 Importance of Chemical Process Engineers 14
1.6 Interaction with Operating Industry or Customers 15
1.7 Interaction with Vendors 15
1.8 Workshare with Multiple Offices 17
1.8.1 Importance of Workshare 17
1.8.1.1 Low-Cost Services 17
1.8.1.2 Labor Shortages 18
1.8.1.3 Level the Workload 18
1.8.1.4 Time Differences in Countries 18
1.8.2 Types of Workshares 19
1.8.2.1 Workshare with an Individual 19
1.8.2.2 Workshare a Piece of a Project 19
1.8.2.3 Workshare Part of the Engineering Team 19
vi Contents

Part II Roles of Chemical Engineers in Different Phases of

the Project 21

2 Phase 1 (Scope Planning) 23

2.1 Perform Feasibility Studies 23
2.1.1 Study Types 23
2.1.2 Study Duration 24
2.2 Interaction with Customer, Recommendations, and Meetings 24
2.3 Preparation of Preliminary Scope Reports 25
2.3.1 Assumptions Required 25
2.3.2 Basis of Design Document 26
2.3.2.1 Contents 26
2.3.2.2 Comparison of Study Report with the Design Basis Document 26
2.3.2.3 Basis of the Equipment 26
2.3.2.4 Report Format 27
2.3.2.5 Study Report Tracking 27
2.4 Technology Selection 28
2.4.1 Technology Options 28
2.4.2 Meeting Between Customer and EPCC 28
2.4.3 Initiate a Study Contract with Technology Companies 28
2.4.4 Review Report from Technology Companies 29
2.4.5 Customer and EPCC Make a Technology Selection 30
2.4.6 Technology Selection Based on Other Criteria 30

3 Phase 2 (Scope Definition) 31

3.1 Develop a Block-Flow Diagram 31
3.1.1 What Is a Block-Flow Diagram (BFD) 31
3.1.2 Information Needed to Develop a BFD 31
3.1.3 Utility Block-Flow Diagrams 31
3.1.4 Examples 31
3.1.5 Uses of BFD and UBFDs 31
3.2 Develop a Process-Flow Diagram 32
3.2.1 What Is Process-Flow Diagram 32
3.2.2 Information Needed to Develop a PFD 33
3.2.3 Utility Flow Diagrams 35
3.2.4 Example 35
3.2.5 Uses of PFD and UFD 35
3.2.6 Distinguishing New Scope from Existing 35
3.2.7 Revisions to the PFDs and UFDs 36
3.2.8 Titleblock for the PFD 36
3.3 Prepare IFE Quality P&IDs 36
3.3.1 IFE Quality P&IDs 36
3.3.2 Uses of IFE P&IDs 37
3.3.2.1 General Uses 37
3.3.2.2 Estimating Uses for Phase 2 Estimate 37
Contents vii

3.3.2.3 Reviews with the Customer 37

3.3.3 Example of a P&ID 38
3.4 Identify Major Pieces of Equipment, Instruments, and Electrical 38
3.4.1 Identification of Major Pieces of Equipment 38
3.4.2 Controls and Electrical Estimate 39
3.4.3 Mechanical Engineering Estimate 39
3.5 Estimate Preliminary Sizing of Major Equipment and Instruments 40
3.5.1 Preliminary Sizing of Major Equipment 40
3.5.2 Instrument Sizing 41
3.5.3 Estimation of Electrical Loads Based on Preliminary Horsepower 41
3.6 Metallurgy Selection of Major Equipment 42
3.6.1 Provide Preliminary Information on the Stream 42
3.6.2 Special Consideration for the Metallurgy 43
3.6.3 Most of the Services in Refinery Are Carbon Steel 43
3.6.4 Importance of a Metallurgy 44
3.7 Complete Simulations for Different Cases and Prepare IFE Quality
HMB 45
3.8 Complete Studies 47
3.9 Preliminary Estimate of Utility Summary 47
3.9.1 Introduction to Utility Summary 47
3.9.2 Use of Utility Summary and Value Plus Suggestions 47
3.10 Participation in LOPA 49
3.10.1 What Is LOPA 49
3.10.2 Format of LOPA 49
3.10.3 LOPA Team 49
3.10.4 Difference Between LOPA and HAZOP 49
3.11 Prepare IFE Quality Design Basis 50

4 Phase 3 (Scope Development) 51

4.1 Perform Detailed Hydraulics 51
4.1.1 What Is Detailed Hydraulics 51
4.1.2 Examples of Criticality of Hydraulics 52
4.1.3 Importance of Design Safety Margin 52
4.1.4 Battery Limit Table Coupled with Hydraulics 53
4.1.5 Line Sizing Criteria for Hydraulics 54
4.2 Detail Design of Other Equipment 54
4.2.1 Heat Exchangers 54
4.2.2 Vessels 56
4.2.3 Columns 56
4.3 Input to Line List and the Process 57
4.4 Create Change Orders and Report Any Changes to Project 63
4.5 Process Data for Inline Instruments 64
4.5.1 Input to Inline Instrument Datasheets 64
4.5.2 How Process Engineers Get the Data 64
4.5.3 How Control System Use the Data 65
viii Contents

4.5.4 Data Checking and Work Process 65

4.6 Prepare Preliminary Safety Valve Evaluations 66
4.7 Prepare and Issue Equipment Datasheets 68
4.8 Communication with Other Disciplines, Projects, and the Customer 70
4.9 Participate in HAZOP 70
4.10 Follow Up and Implementation of HAZOP Items 71
4.11 Issue and Prepare IFR/IFH/IFA/IFD Quality P&IDs/PFDs/MSDs
(Including Tie-in/Demo P&IDs) 72
4.12 Complete and Lead Line-by-Line Reviews of P&IDs 73
4.13 Prepare IFD Quality Design Basis 74
4.14 Issue IFD HMBs 74
4.15 Utility Summary IFD 75
4.16 Prepare DPDT Diagrams 75
4.17 Prepare Material Selection Diagram 76
4.18 Drafting of the Drawings and Backchecking 77
4.19 Input to 30% Model Reviews and Plot Plan Development 79
4.20 Input to Cost Estimate 80
4.21 Budget Estimate, Schedule, and Staffing Plan 80
4.21.1 Interactive Schedule Planning Meetings 80
4.21.2 Budget Preparation 81
4.21.3 Schedule and Dates 81
4.21.4 Staffing Plan 81
4.21.5 Project Status Progress and Tracking 86
4.22 Lead Workshare Meetings 87
4.23 Input to Internal Meetings with Project and Discipline Teams 88
4.24 Plant Visits 89
4.25 Input to Preparation of Demolition and Tie-in P&IDs 89
4.25.1 Tie-in P&IDs 89
4.25.2 Demo P&IDs 89
4.26 Preparation of Pipe Service Index 90
4.27 Process Audit 91

5 Phase 4 (Detailed Design) 95

5.1 Participate in the Final HAZOP 95
5.2 HAZOP Action Item Closeout and Hold Items 95
5.3 Project Support as Needed 96
5.4 Provide Offline Instrument Data 96
5.5 Squad Check of Process and Vendor Data 98
5.6 Finalize Safety Valves Design and Issue IFD Datasheets 99
5.7 Closeout of Documents 101
5.8 Input to 60% and 90% Model Reviews 101
5.9 Lead Workshare Meeting 102
5.10 IFC and IFC–R P&IDs 102
5.11 Line List Updates and Input to New Lines 103
5.12 Leading MOC Meetings 103
Contents ix

5.13 Cause-and-Effect Table 105

5.14 Input to SP Items and Tie-in Forms 106
5.14.1 SP Items 106
5.14.2 Tie-in Forms 106

6 Phase 5 (Construction and Support) 109

6.1 Preparation of Procedures and Manuals 109
6.2 Tie-in Execution 109
6.3 Provide Answers to the Construction Team 109
6.4 Updating P&IDs as Needed 111

7 Phase 6 (Commissioning and Startup) 113

7.1 Perform General Process Activities 113
7.2 Prepare and Complete Pre-startup and Safety Checklists 114
7.3 Check Performance Test of All the Equipment 116
7.4 Participate in Control System Loop Testing 116
7.5 Leak Testing 117
7.6 Drying-Out and Oxygen Freeing 118
7.7 Startup Assistance 118

Part III The Process Engineer 119

8 Role by Process Engineer’s Position 121

8.1 Entry-Level Process Engineer – 0 Years Experience 121
8.2 Junior Process Engineer – 1–2 Years Experience 121
8.3 Mid-Level Process Engineer – 3–6 Years Experience 121
8.4 Lead Process Engineers – 7–10 Years Experience 122
8.5 Senior Process Engineers – 10–15 Years Experience 122
8.6 Process Managers – 15+ Years Experience 122
8.7 Competency Guide for Process Engineers 122

9 Interaction of Process Engineers with Others 137

9.1 Project Tree 137
9.2 Customer 138
9.3 Mechanical Engineer 139
9.4 Projects 140
9.5 Piping Design 140
9.6 Piping Engineering 141
9.7 Control System Engineer 141
9.8 Electrical Engineer 142
9.9 Civil Engineer 142
9.10 Construction Team 143
9.11 Cost Estimating 143
9.12 Project Controls 144
x Contents

9.13 Licensor 144

9.14 Other EPCC Engineer 145
9.15 CAD and Drafting Coordinator 145
9.16 Document Control 146

Questions 147
Answers 149
Acronyms 153

Appendix 155

Appendix A Project Conceptual Diagram 157

A.1 Explanation of Figure A.1 157
A.2 Explanation of Figure A.2 158
A.3 Explanation of Figure A.3 158
A.4 Explanation of Figure A.4 159
A.5 Explanation of Figure A.5 160
A.6 Explanation of Figure A.6 161
A.7 Explanation of Figure A.7 162

Appendix B Project Schedule Diagrams 163

B.1 Explanation of Figure B.1 163

Appendix C Project 3D Model and Plot Diagrams 165

C.1 Explanation of Figure C.1 165
C.2 Explanation of Figure C.2 166
C.3 Explanation of Figure C.3 167
C.4 Explanation of Figure C.4 167
C.5 Explanation of Figure C.5 168

Appendix D Process Engineering Diagrams 171

D.1 Explanation of Figure D.1 171
D.2 Explanation of Figure D.2 171
D.3 Explanation of Figure D.3 171

References 175
Index 177
xi

Preface

This book is written keeping in mind expansion or grassroot projects in industries,

such as oil and gas, refinery, chemical plant, and water treatment units. But the
principles of process engineering can be applied to any project, e.g. construction
of a road or mining of metals. The objective of this book is to explain responsibil-
ities of a chemical process engineer without getting into many details of chemical
engineering equipment design or technical equations.
The reader can benefit in the following ways:
1. If an engineer is new to Engineering, Procurement, Construction, and Commis-
sioning (EPCC) industry, he/she can contribute to the project without needing
much supervision. This improves project efficiency and greater understanding
among engineers and disciplines.
2. Other disciplines, such as civil engineering and mechanical engineering, can
better understand the functions performed by a chemical process engineer. They
can coordinate in a better way for the success of the project. A successful project
is one that can be finished under budget or on budget, with no incidents, and
under specified project timelines.
3. This book can be a guideline for new college graduates who are willing or curi-
ous to enter an EPCC industry. This should also help new graduates to prepare
for interviews. As there are several EPCC industries worldwide, the book can be
helpful to many engineers.
4. The book should also benefit personnel from an operating company who are
involved in a project. The customer can understand the routine practices of EPCC
industry and the roles of chemical process engineers. This helps improve coordi-
nation and communications.

May 2019 Avinashkumar V. Karre

Worley Group Inc, Baton Rouge
LA 70809, United States
1

Part I

Introduction to EPCC Industry

Managing Engineering, Procurement, Construction, and Commissioning Projects: A Chemical Engineer’s Guide,
First Edition. Avinashkumar V. Karre.
© 2023 WILEY-VCH GmbH. Published 2023 by WILEY-VCH GmbH.
Another Random Scribd Document
with Unrelated Content
"Degradation! Do you mean to say that Mitford's infidelities are
known--about--generally?"

"My dear Alsager, you think I colour and exaggerate. Let us pump
that well of candour, Cis Hetherington. If there is an honest opinion
about, it will be procurable from that son of Anak.--Well, Cis, going
to the play?"

"Course I am," responded that scion of the aristocracy, lazily lifting

his head from the ottoman; "everybody's going, seems to me.
What's the woman like? Yankee, ain't she? Don't like Yankees,--all
speak through their noses, and say 'I guess;' at, least, all that I've
ever seen do, and that's only on the stage."

"She's not Yankee; she's an Englishwoman, they tell me; though of

course that story of the nobleman's daughter is all bosh. However,
Wuff has worked the oracle splendidly. Everybody's going. Here's
Alsager come up to town on purpose."

"Is that Alsager sitting next to you?" asked Cis Hetherington, raising
himself on his elbow and looking full at Laurence. "I thought it
looked like him, and I wondered he didn't speak to me. But I
suppose he's grown proud since he's become a Bart."

"You old idiot! I shook hands with you in the hall as I came in," said
Laurence, laughing. "What's the news, Cis? how are all your
people?"

"First-rate, old boy! Westonhanger's gone abroad--to America, I

mean; Sioux Indians, and that sort of thing. Wanted you awfully to
go with him, but thought you were doing monseigneur on your
terre. Asked about you no end, give you my word! And the Duke's
really tremendous! 'pon my soul, some fellow ought to put him in a
book! Ever since the row about the repeal of the Corn Laws has
been coming to a head, he's been like a lunatic. He thinks it's all up
with everything, and is sure we shall have a revolution, and that he'll
have his head cut off by the mob and stuck on a pike, and all that
kind of thing."

"And Algy Forrester?" asked Dollamore.

"Algy Forrester was here to-day," said Hetherington; "came to me

about a devilish unpleasant thing. That fellow Mitford, whom you
both know" ("Now, then, listen!" said Dollamore),--"that fellow
Mitford has asked him--Algy, I mean--to put him up here. And Algy
came to ask if I'd second him, and I told him I'd see Mitford d--d
first. And so I would. I ain't a strait-laced party, and don't go in for
being particularly virtuous myself; but I'm a bachelor, and am on my
own hook. But the way that fellow Mitford treats that nice wife of his
is neither more nor less than blackguardly, I think; and so I wouldn't
mind telling him, if I'd the chance."

"Hallo, Cis!" said Markham Bowers, who was sitting near; "shut your
stupid old mouth. You'll get into a mess if you give tongue like that,-
-get cut off in the flower of your youth; and then what weeping and
wailing there'll be among the ten tribes, and among those
unfortunate Christians who have been speculating on your
autograph. Not that you're wrong in what you say about Mitford; for
if ever a cad walked this earth, that's the man."

"Ah! and isn't she a nice woman?" said Hetherington. "When she
first showed in town last season, she took everybody's fancy; even
Runnymede admired her, and the Duchess asked to be introduced,
and they were quite thick. Wonderful! wasn't it? And to think of that
snob Mitford treating her as he does, completely neglecting her,
while he's--Well, I don't know; I suppose it's all right; but there ain't
many things that would please me better than dropping on to that
party--heavy."

"You're always dropping on to parties, Cis," said Bowers; "but you

had better keep quiet in this case, please. You would have to make
your own chance of getting into a row, for of course the lady's name
must not appear--"

"Oh, don't you be afraid of me, Marky; I'm all right!" said Cis, rising
and stretching himself. "You won't mind my stamping on Mitford's
feet,--accidentally, of course,--if we find him in the stalls." And the
two Guardsmen started away together.

"Well," said Lord Dollamore, leaning forward towards his companion,

"was I right or wrong?"

"Right! terribly right!" said Alsager, with a set rigid face.

"You would not have accepted my testimony, thinking perhaps that I

had motives for exaggeration, or was prompted by an arrière
pensée, in which, on my word of honour, you're wrong. But those
fellows are merely types of society; and their opinion, somewhat
differently expressed, is society's opinion."

"Has not Mitford's madness cooled down at all?"

"It is worse, far and away,--worse than ever--"

"And that woman?"

"Ah," said Lord Dollamore, "she's been very quiet lately, owing to her
husband's death. Poor old boy! poor old Percy Hammond! But she's
up in town, I understand, now; and I don't think--" and here
Dollamore's crutch-handled stick was evidently whispering
confidences into his master's ear,--"I don't think Master Mitford will
find it all straight sailing in that quarter just now."

"How do you mean? What would induce her to change to him?"

"Well, you see, she's a widow now, with a comparatively small

income; for I suspect poor old Percy knew more than he ever let on,
and instructed Trivett to prepare his will accordingly. So that, besides
wanting a husband, she'll want him rich; for she's one of the best
hands at getting through money in England. With a husband in
posse, Mitford's attentions would not do at all."

"Ah, I see; but is not her character too well known?"

"Not a bit of it; her powers of attraction are enormous still. Why, if
I'm rightly informed, a Russian whom you know, I think,--Tchernigow
by name,-is making the running there already."

"I know him; he was madly in love with her, I heard, the season
before last; followed her to Baden and about."

"That's the man! Well, he's revenu-- not to his premier, which was
probably some Cossack peasant-girl--but to one of his amours, and
is desperate."

"He's enormously wealthy. If she accepted him, there might yet be a

chance of happiness for Georgie,--Lady Mitford, I mean."

"Don't you believe that for an instant, Alsager!" said Dollamore,

looking keenly at him; "you're not posted up in that family history.
Matters have gone too far now; there is only one way in which Sir
Charles Mitford could really be of service to his wife, and that is by
dying. But I'm afraid she would not think so, poor girl!" Then seeing
his companion looking very grave, he said, "Come, it's no use
brooding over these matters; let us go to the theatre."

The theatre was crammed, as Mr. Wuff had anticipated. The

audience was composed of pretty much the same class of people as
those present on the first night of Mr. Spofforth's play at the
Parthenium; with the exception of those who were most strongly
remembered by Alsager. He had known that the Mitfords and Mrs.
Hammond could not be there, and there was little to interest him
among the audience. The curtain rose on the piece of the evening,
and everybody's attention concentrated on the stage. Shortly
afterwards came the appearance of the new actress, who was hailed
with shouts of encouragement and applause by Mr. Wuff's
supporters in boxes, pit, and gallery. She seemed not in the least
overcome by her reception, but bowed gracefully, and entered
immediately on the business of the piece. The character she played
was that of a highbred wealthy girl, beloved by a young yeoman-
farmer of the neighbourhood, who proposes to her, but she mocks at
his gaucheries, and rejects him with scorn. He accepts his defeat,
and goes away to travel on the Continent with his brother. It is not
until he is gone that she finds how deeply she had really loved him;
but he is gone never to return, and so she accepts the attention of,
and is engaged to, a silly peer. Then comes the Nemesis. The girl's
father is ruined, the peer jilts her, and she is left in wretchedness,
when the yeoman-farmer comes back a polished gentleman. There
is an admirable scene of intensity between them, and, of course, all
ends happily. The character of the heroine seemed excellently suited
for Miss Greenwood, who, gradually winning the confidence of the
audience, worked them to a pitch of enthusiasm in the last scene,
and brought down the curtain with a universal verdict of her
combining thorough knowledge of the usages of society and ladylike
manners with great dramatic power.

Of course she was recalled before the curtain; and then as she
swept across the stage, clasping her bouquet to her bosom, and
occasionally bowing low, her eyes lit full on those of Laurence
Alsager. And then for the first time Laurence Alsager, who had been
puzzling his brain about her ever since she appeared on the scene,
recollected who she was, and said half aloud, "The woman who
wrote me the note!--Miss Gillespie, without a doubt!"

CHAPTER XXVII.
LOVE AND DUTY.

Lady Mitford was alone on the afternoon of the following day, when
Sir Laurence Alsager was announced. She was often alone now; for
the world falls readily and easily away, not only from the forsaken,
but from the preoccupied--from those to whom its gaieties are
childish follies and its interests weariness. She had fallen out of the
ranks, as much through inclination as in compliance with the
etiquette of mourning; and it came to pass often that the afternoon
hours found her, as on this occasion, sitting alone in her splendid,
vapid, faultless, soulless home. The softened light which reached her
stately figure and irradiated her thoughtful lace showed the grace
and loveliness which distinguished her untouched, undimmed. Under
the discipline of sorrow, under the teaching of disappointment, her
face had gained in expression and dignity,--every line and curve had
strength added to its former sweetness; the pure steadfast eyes
shone with deeper, more translucent lustre, and the rich lips met
each other with firmer purpose and more precision. The perfecting,
the refinement of her beauty, were sensibly felt by Alsager as he
advanced towards the end of the room where she was seated in the
recess between a large window and a glittering fireplace. She sat in
a deep low chair of purple velvet; and as she leaned slightly forward
and looked at him coming rapidly towards her, his eye noted every
detail of the picture. He saw the glossy hair in its smooth classic
bandeaux, the steadfast eyes, the gracious, somewhat grave, smile,
the graceful figure in its soft robe of thick mourning silk, and its rich
jet trimmings; he saw the small white hands, gentle but not weak,--
one extended towards him in welcome, the other loosely holding an
open book. In a minute he was by her side and speaking to her; but
that minute had a deathless memory,--that picture he was to see
again and again, in many a place, at many a time and it was never
to be less beautiful, less divine for him. He loved her--ay, he loved
her--this injured woman, this neglected, outraged wife, this woman
who was a victim, crushed under the wheels of the triumphal car
which had maimed him once on a time, though only slightly, and by
a hurt soon healed by the balsam of contempt. Was she crushed,
though? There was sorrow in that grand face--indeed, to that look of
sorrow it owed its grandeur,--but there was no pining; there was sad
experience, but no weak vain retrospection. All the pain of her lot
was written upon her face; but none could read there a trace of
what would have been its mortification, its bitter humiliation to
commoner and coarser minds. It mattered nothing to her that her
husband's infatuation and their mutual estrangement were topics for
comment to be treated in the style current in society, and she herself
an object of that kind of compassion which is so hard to brook:
these were small things, too small for her range of vision; she did
not see them--did not feel them. She saw the facts, she felt their
weight and significance; but for the rest! If Lady Mitford had
progressed rapidly in knowledge of the great world since she had
been of it, she had also graduated in other sciences which placed
her above and beyond it.

"I am fortunate in finding you at home, Lady Mitford," said Alsager.

She answered by a smile They had got beyond the talking of

commonplaces to each other, these two, in general; but there was a
sense of oppression over them both to-day, and each was conscious
that it weighed upon the other. The remembrance of the talk to
which he had listened at the Club, of the light discussion of Sir
Charles's conduct, of the flippant censure of the woman who had
won him from his wife, was very strong upon Alsager; while she,--of
what was she thinking? Who could undertake to tell that? who could
categorize the medley which must occupy the mind of a woman so
situated? Was she suffering the sharp pangs of outraged love? or
was she enduring the hardly less keen torture of discovering that
that which she had believed to be love, had cherished in her breast
as the true deity, had given, in that belief, to her husband, was not
love, but only a skilful (and innocent) counterfeit, only a mock jewel
which she had offered in good faith for the flawless pearl of price?
Who can tell? She could hardly have answered such a question truly,
if she had put it to herself at the close of the interview which began
after so commonplace a fashion.

"I have not seen you since your father's death," said Lady Mitford,
gently; and in a tone which lent the simple words all the effect of a
formal condolence. "You have not been long in town, I'm sure?"

"No, indeed," he said; "I have but just returned. There is so much to
be done on these occasions; there are so many forms to be gone
through; there is so much immediate business to be transacted, in
the interests of the living, that--that,"--he hesitated; for he had
neared that precipice so dreaded by all now-a-days, the exhibition of
natural emotion.

"That one has to wait for leisure to mourn for the dead," said Lady
Mitford. "Ah, yes, I understand that. But you remain in town now, do
you not?"

There was a tone of anxiety in the question which struck on

Alsager's ear with a sound of music. She had missed him, then,--she
would miss him if he went away again! He loved her well, ay, and
worthily, contradictory though that may seem; but his heart was
stirred with a joy which he dared not analyze, but could not deny, at
the thought. He answered hurriedly, "Yes, I remain here now." And
then he changed his tone, and said eagerly,

"Tell me something of yourself. How has it been with you since we

met last?"

"Of myself!" she replied sadly; and her colour flushed and faded as
she spoke, and her restless fingers trifled with the ornaments of her
dress. "Myself is an unprofitable subject, and one I am weary of. I
have nothing new to tell,--nothing you would care to hear."

He dissented by an eager gesture; but she appeared not to perceive

it, and went on, with attempted gaiety:
"We have missed you dreadfully, of course. I need not tell you what
a void your absence must necessarily make. We all know you are
beyond spoiling."

She looked at him, and something in his face warned her not to
pursue this tone. She felt vaguely that the position was unreal, and
must be changed. He knew, as she supposed, what she was thinking
of; she knew, as he fancied, what he was thinking of; and though,
as it happened, each was wrong, it was manifestly absurd to carry
on false pretences any longer. Woman-like, she was the first to brave
the difficulty of the situation.

"You have come to me," she said steadily, and looking at him with
the clear upheld gaze peculiar to her, "because you have heard
something which concerns me nearly, and because, man of the
world,--of this heartless world around us,--as you are, and
accustomed to such things, still you feel for me; because you would
have prevented this thing if you could; because you tried to prevent
it, and failed; because you knew--yes, Sir Laurence Alsager, because
you knew the extent and the power of the danger that menaced me,
and my helplessness: say, am I right?--for these reasons you are
here to-day."

The composure of her voice was gone, but not its sweetness; her
colour had faded to a marble paleness; and her hands were firmly
clasped together. Alsager had risen as she spoke, and was standing
now, leaning against the low velvet-covered mantelpiece. He
answered hurriedly, and with scant composure:

"Yes, Lady Mitford, for these reasons, and for others."

"For what others?"

This almost in a whisper.

"Never mind them now," he said impetuously; and then the

superficial restraint which he had imposed upon himself gave way,
broke down before that strongest and most terrible of temptations,
the sight of the sorrow and the silent confidence of the woman one
loves, granted at the moment when a hope, a guilty hope, that that
love may not be vain, begins to stir, like life, at one's heart. She
shrank a little back in the chair, but she looked at him as earnestly as
before.

"It's all true, then," he said,--and there was a tone of deep and
bitter hatred in his voice,--"all true. The prophecy I heard among
those fellows the first time I ever heard your name--the coarse
language, the cynical foresight,--all true. That heartless demon has
caught his shallow nature in her shallow lure, and worked the woe of
an angel!"

His voice rang with a passionate tremor, his eyes deepened and
darkened with the passionate fervour which glowed in them. His
impetuous feeling mastered her. She had no power to arrest him by
a conventional phrase, though he had overstepped more than
conventionality by invading the sacred secrecy of her domestic grief.

"Yes, Lady Mitford," he went on; "I have returned to find that all I
feared,--more than I feared,--has befallen you. It was an unequal
contest; you had only innocence and purity, an old-fashioned belief
in the stability of human relations and the sanctity of plighted faith;
and what weapons were these in such a fight? No wonder you are
vanquished. No wonder she is triumphant--shameless as she is
heartless. I wound you," he said, for she cowered and trembled at
his words; "but I cannot keep silence. I have seen shameful things,--
I am no stranger to the dark passages of life; but this is worse than
all. Good God! to think that a man like Mitford should have had such
a chance and have thrown it away! To think that--"

"Hush, Sir Laurence!" she said, and stretched her hand appealingly
towards him; "I must not hear you. I cannot, I will not affect to
misunderstand you; but there must be no more of this. I am an
unhappy woman--a most wretched wife; all the world--all the little
world we think so great, and suffer to torment us so cruelly--knows
that. Pretence between us would be idle; but confidence is
impossible. I cannot discuss Sir Charles Mitford's conduct with any
one, least of all with you." She seemed to have spoken the last
words unawares, or at least involuntarily, for a painful blush, rose on
her face and throat.

"And why," he eagerly asked,--"why least of all with me? I have

been honoured by your friendship,--I have not forfeited it, have I? I
know that conventionality, which is a systematic liar and a
transparent hypocrite, would condemn in theory a woman to keep
her garments folded decorously over such mortal heart-wounds; I
know that poets snivel rhymes which tell us how grand and great,
how high and mighty, it is 'to suffer and be strong.' I know how easy
some people find it to see others suffer, and be perfectly strong in
the process; but such rubbish is not for you nor for me. I cannot
return to London and hear all that I have heard; I cannot come here
and look upon you--" his voice faltered, but he forced it into the
same hurried composure with which he had been speaking. "I
cannot see you as I see you now, and talk to you as an ordinary
morning visitor might talk, or even as we have talked together, when
these things were coming indeed, but had not yet come."

She was leaning forward now, her face turned towards him, but
hidden in her hands. He gazed at her with a kindling glance, and
strode fiercely backward and forward across the wide space which
lay before the window.

"I am not a good man," he went on, "according to your standard of

goodness, Lady Mitford; but I am not a bad man according to my
own. I have had rough tussles with life, and some heavy falls; but I
swear there is a dastardly, cold, heartless ingratitude in this business
which I cannot bear; and in the sight of you there is something
terrible to me. Men know this man's history; we know from what
degradation you raised him; we are not so blind and coarse that we
cannot guess with what fidelity and patience you loved him when it
was at its deepest. And now, to see him return to it; to see him,
without any excuse of poverty or struggle, in the enjoyment of all
that fate and fortune have blindly given him; to see him play the
part of a liar and a villain to you--to you--to see you left
unprotected, openly neglected and betrayed, to run the gauntlet of
society such as ours! I cannot see all this, Lady Mitford, and pretend
that I do not see it; and what is more, you do not wish that I could.
You are too true, too womanly to form such a wish; and you are too
honest to express it, in obedience to any laws of cant."

He went near to her; he bent down, he lowered his voice, he gently

drew away the hands that hid her face from him; they dropped into
her lap, nerveless and idle; the first tears he had ever seen in her
eyes dimmed them now.

"You mean kindly, as you have always meant to me, Sir Laurence,"
she said; "but we cannot discuss this matter,--indeed we cannot. I
am weaker than I ought to be,--I should not listen to this; but oh,
God help me, I have no friends; I am all alone, all alone!"

If she had been beautiful in the pride and dignity of her sorrowful
composure, if his strong heart had quailed and his firm nerve had
shrunk at the sight of her pale and placid grief, how far more
beautiful was she now, when the restraint had fallen from her, when
the eyes looked at him from the shadow of wet lashes, and the
perfect lips trembled with irrepressible emotion.

"No!" he said vehemently; and as he spoke he stood close before

her, and stretched his hands towards her, but without taking hers;
the gesture was one of mingled denial and appeal, and had no touch
of boldness in it; "no, you are not alone; yes, you have friends,--at
least you have one friend. Listen to me,--do not fear to hear me; let
us at least venture to tell and listen to the truth. This man, to whom
you were given as a guardian angel, is quite unworthy of you. You
know it; your keen intellect accepts a fact and all its consequences,
however terrible to your woman's heart, and does not palter with
the truth. Are you to be always miserable because you have been
once mistaken? If you had known, if you had been able to
comprehend the real nature of this man, would you, could you ever
have loved him?"

She put up her hand with a faint gesture of protest; but he

impetuously waved it away, and went on, once more striding up and
down.

"No, no; I must speak! There can be more reticence now. You would
not, you could not have loved him, this heartless, ungrateful
profligate, as tasteless and low as he is faithless and vicious,--this
scoundrel, who, holding good in his grasp, has deliberately chosen
evil. Ay, I will say it, Lady Mitford! You could not have loved him, and
you know it well; you have admitted it to yourself before now, when
you little dreamed that anyone--that I--would ever dare to put your
thought in form and shape before you. What did you love? A girl's
fancy,--a shadow, a dream! It was no reality, it had no foundation,
and it has vanished. Your imagination drew a picture of an injured
victim of circumstances,--a weak being, to be pitied and admired, to
be restored and loved! The truth was a selfish scoundrel, who has
returned in wealth with fresh zest to the miserable pleasures for
which he lived in poverty; a mean-hearted wretch, who could care
for your beauty while it was new to him indeed, but to whose
perception you, your heart and soul, your intellect and motives, were
mysteries as high and as far off as heaven. Are you breaking your
heart, Lady Mitford, under the kindly scrutiny of the world, because
the thistle has not borne figs and the thorn has not given you purple
grapes? Are you sitting down in solitary grief because the animal has
done according to its kind, because effect has resulted from cause,
because the wisdom of the world, wise in the ways of such men, has
verified itself? Do you love this man now? Are you suffering the
pangs of jealousy, of despair? No, you do not love him; you are
suffering no such pangs. You are truth itself,--the truest and the
bravest, as you are the most beautiful of women; and you cannot,
you dare not tell me that you love this man still, knowing him as you
know him now." He stopped close beside her, and looked at her with
an eager, almost a fierce glance.

"Why do you ask me?" she gasped out faintly. There was a sudden
avoidance of him in her expression, a shadow of fear. "Why do you
speak to me thus? Oh, Sir Laurence, this--this is the worst of all."
She was not conscious of the effect of the tone in which these words
were spoken, of the pathos, the helplessness, the pleading
tenderness it implied. But he heard them, and they were enough.
They were faint as the murmur of a brook in summer, but mighty as
an Alpine storm; and the barriers of conventional restriction, the
scruples of conscience, the timidity of a real love, were swept away
like straws before their power.

"Why?" he repeated, "because I love you!"

She uttered a faint exclamation; she half rose from her chair, but he
caught her hands and stopped her.

"Hush!" he said; "I implore you not to speak till you have heard me!
Do not wrong me by supposing that I have come here to urge on
your unwilling ear a tale of passion, to take advantage of your
husband's crime, your husband's cowardice, to extenuate crime and
cowardice in myself. Before God, I have no such meaning! But I love
you--I love you as I never even fancied I loved any woman before;
though I am no stranger to the reality or the mockery of passion,
though I have received deep and smarting wounds in my time. I
wish to make myself no better in your eyes than I am. And I love
you--love you so much better than myself; that I would fain see you
happy with this man, even with him, if it could be. But it cannot, and
you know it. You know in your true heart, that if he came back to his
allegiance to you now--poor bond of custom as it is--you could not
love him, any more than you could return to the toys of your
childhood. I read you aright; I know you with the intuitive
knowledge which love, and love only, lends to a man, when he
would learn the mystery of a woman's nature. You are too noble, too
true, to be bound by the petty rules, to be governed by the small
scruples, which dominate nine-tenths of the women who win the
suffrages of society. You have the courage of your truthfulness."

He stood before her, looking steadfastly down upon her, his arms
tightly folded across his chest, his breath coming quickly in hurried
gasps. She had shrunken into the recesses of her velvet chair, and
she looked up at him with parted lips and wild eyes, her hands
holding the cushions tightly, the fingers hidden in the purple fringes.
Was it that she could not speak, or that she would not? However
that may have been, she did not, and he went on.

"Yes, yes, I love you. I think you knew it before?" She made no
reply. "I think I have loved you from the first,--from the moment
when, callous and blasé as I had come to believe myself--as, God
knows, I had good right to be, if human nature may ever claim such
a right--I could not bear to see the way your fate was drifting, or to
hear the chances for and against you calculated, as men calculate
such odds. I think I loved you from the moment I perceived how
completely you had mistaken your own heart, and how beautifully,
how innocently loyal you were to the error. While your delusion
lasted, Lady Mitford, you were safe with me and from me, for in that
delusion there was security. While you loved Mitford, and believed
that he returned your love, you would never have perceived that any
other man loved you. But you are a woman who cannot be partially
deceived or undeceived; therefore I tell you now, when your
delusion is wholly at an end, when it can come no more to blind
your eyes, and rend your heart with the removal of the bandage,
that I love you,--devotedly, changelessly, eternally. You must take
this fact into account when you meditate upon your future; you must
number this among the component parts of your life. Hush! not yet.
I am not speaking thus through reckless audacity, availing itself of
your position; you know I am not, and you must hear me to the
end."
She had made a movement as if about to speak, but he had again
checked her; and they maintained their relative positions, he looking
down at her, she looking up at him.

"We are facing facts, Lady Mitford. I love you, not as the man who
left you, in your first year of marriage, for the worthless woman who
forsook me for a richer lover, and would have wronged the fool who
bought her without a scruple, could she have got me into her power
again--not as he loved you, even when he came nearest to the truth
of love. That woman, your enemy, your rival,"--he spoke the word
with a stringent scorn which would have been the keenest
punishment in human power to have inflicted on the woman it
designated,--"she knows I love you, and she has struck at me
through you; struck at me, poor fool--for she is fool as well as fiend-
-a blow which has recoiled upon herself. She has taught me how
much, how well, how devotedly I love you, and learned the lesson
herself thereby, for the intuition of hate is no less keen than that of
love. But why do I speak of her? Only to make you understand that I
am a portion of your fate,--only to lay the whole truth before you;
only to make it clear to you that mine is no chance contact, no mere
intrusion. I am not a presumptuous fool, who has dared to use a
generously-granted friendship as a cover for an illicit passion. Have
patience with me a little longer. Let me tell you all the truth. You
cannot dismiss me from your presence as you might another who
had dared to love you, and dared to tell you so; you cannot do this."

"Why?" she asked faintly, but with an angry sparkle in her eyes. For
the second time she said that one word.

"Because I have injured you, Lady Mitford,--injured you

unconsciously, unintentionally; and that is a plea which cannot fail,
addressed to such as you. Had I never crossed your path, the
woman for whom your husband has wronged you would never have
crossed it either. I am the object, you are the victim, of the hatred of
a she-devil. You don't suppose she cares for Mitford, do you?"
"Not if she ever loved you," was the reply.

Alsager passed it over, but a sudden light flashed into his face.

"Of course she does not. She has played her ruthless game skilfully
according to her lights, and your happiness has been staked and
lost. Indirectly, I am the cause of this. Was the feeling which came
over me the first time I saw you a presentiment, I wonder? Well, no
matter; you see now that I am a portion of your fate. You see now
that a hidden tie binds us together, and the folly, the delusion of my
youth, and the mistaken love of your girlhood, have borne
mysterious common fruit."

She sat like one enthralled, entranced, and listened to him; she bent
her head for a moment as he took an instant's breath, but she did
not attempt to speak. His manner changed, grew softer, and his
voice fell to almost a whisper:

"May not this mysterious tie of misfortune mean more to us?" he

said. "May not the consolation come, as the curse has come, and all
the designs of our enemies be disconcerted? I do not say my love is
worthy of your acceptance,--I am too much travel-stained in my
wanderings in the world's ways to make any such pretension; but it
is yours, such as it is--faulty, imperfect, but loyal and eternal. I love
you, Lady Mitford, and I ask nothing of you but permission to love
you freely and fully; I ask your leave to give you all the devotion of
my heart, all the loyalty of my life. I know how the world would hold
such a demand; but I care nothing for the world, and I fancy you
know it too well to care much for it now. You cherished a delusion
long and sacredly; it was at least a noble one, but it is gone, and the
world can neither satisfy you for its loss nor substitute another.
Dearest--" he paused; she shivered, but she said not a word,--
"dearest, what remains? Inexpressible tenderness was in his voice,
in his bending figure, in his moistened eyes. There was a moment's
silence, and then she spoke, replying to his last words:
"Duty, Sir Laurence,--duty, the only thing which is not a delusion;
that remains."

He drew back a little, looking at her. She raised herself in her chair,
and pointed to a seat at a little distance from her own. She was
deadly pale, but she did not tremble, and her voice was firm and low
as she said:

"Sit down, and listen to me."

He obeyed, silent and wondering. Perhaps he had not told himself

exactly what he had expected,--perhaps no one ever does, when the
emotions of the heart are called into evidence; but he knew that it
was not this. Had he more to learn of this woman whom he had so
closely studied; had her nature heights which he had not seen, and
depths which he had not comprehended? Breathless he waited for
her words. In an agony of suspense he looked at her averted face,
which appeared to address itself to something in the distance,--
which had settled into a wondrous composure at the command of
the strong will. He had not estimated that strength of will aright; he
had made the common mistake of overlooking a quality because he
had not seen it in active employment. There was neither confusion
nor weakness in the manner of the woman to whom he had just
spoken such words as no woman could hear unmoved; and there
mingled strangely with his love something of wonder and of awe.

After a little interval, which seemed endless to him, she turned her
face towards him again, laid her hand heavily upon her breast, and
spoke:

"You have been cruel to me, Sir Laurence, in all that you have said;
but men, I believe, are always cruel to women if they love them, or
have loved them. I acquit you of intentional cruelty, and I accept all
you say of the necessity for the truth being spoken between us in
the new phase of our relation which you have brought about to-day."
The intensity of her face deepened, and the pressure of her hand
grew heavier. He muttered a few words of protest, but she went on
as if she had not heard him.

"You have spoken words to me, Sir Laurence, which I should not
have heard; but they have been spoken, and the wrong cannot be
undone. It may be atoned for, and it must. Neither these words nor
any other must be spoken between us henceforth--"

He started up.

"You cannot mean this," he said; "it is impossible; I do not believe

it.--I will not bear it."

"Be still and hear me," she replied; "I kept silence at your desire,--
you will not, I am sure, do less at mine. I too must speak to you,
uninterrupted, in the spirit of that truth of which you have spoken so
eloquently and with such sophistry--yes, with such sophistry."

Once more she paused and sighed.

"Speak to me, then," he said; and there was true, real anguish in his
tone. "Say what you will, but do not be too hard on me. I am only a
mortal man; if I have offended you, it is because you are an angel."

"You have not offended me," she said very slowly: "perhaps I ought
to be offended, but I am not. I think you judge me aright when you
say that truth holds the foremost place in and for me: therefore I tell
you truth. You have grieved me; you have added a heavy burden to
a load which is not very easy to bear, though the world, which you
exhort me to despise and to deny, cannot lay a feather's weight
upon it. Your friendship was very dear to me,--very precious; I did
not know how dear, I think, until to-day."

How eagerly he listened to the thrilling voice! how ardently he gazed

into the dreamy beautiful eyes! how breathlessly he kept the silence
so hard to maintain!
"If I could use any further disguise with myself, Sir Laurence, if self-
deception could have any further power over me, I might terminate
this interview here, and tell you, and tell myself, that it should be
forgotten. But I have done with self-deception."

"For God's sake, don't speak in that bitter tone!" Alsager said
entreatingly; "spare me, if you will not spare yourself."

"No," she replied; "I will spare neither you nor myself. Why should I?
The world has spared neither of us--will spare neither of us; only it
will tell lies, and I will tell truths,--that's all."

Her colour was heightened, and her eyes were flashing now; but the
pressure of her hand upon her bosom was steady.

"You have read my story aright: I know not by what art or science--
but you have read it. If, as you say, you have an involuntary share,
an unconscious responsibility in my heavy trial, it is a misfortune,
which I put away from my thoughts; I hold you in no way
accountable. My sorrow is my own; my delusion is over; my duty
remains."

"Do you speak of duty to Sir Charles Mitford?" asked Alsager with a
sneer.

"Yes," she said gently; "I do. Your tone is unworthy of you, Sir
Laurence; but I pass it by; for it is the tone of a man of the world, to
whom inclination is a law. Can my husband's faithlessness absolve
me from fidelity? Is his sin any excuse for my defection from my
duty? You say truly, I cannot love him now as I loved him when I did
not know him as he is; but I can do my duty to him still--a hard
duty, but imperative. The time will come when this woman will
weary of him, of her vain and futile vengeance; and then--"

"Well, Lady Mitford, and then--?" asked Alsager in a cold hard voice.
She looked at him with eyes in which a holy calm had succeeded to
her transient passion, and replied:

"Then he will return to me, and I must be ready to meet him without
a shade upon my conscience, without a blush upon my cheek."

He started up angrily, and exclaimed:

"You pass all comprehension! What! You are no longer in error about
this man; the glamour has passed. You know him for the cold cynical
profligate he is; and you talk of welcoming him like a repentant
prodigal; only yourself it is you are prepared to kill--your own pride,
your own delicacy, your own heart! Good God! what are good
women made of, that they set such monstrous codes up for
themselves, and adhere to them so mercilessly!"

"He is my husband," she faltered out; and for a moment her courage
seemed to fail. The next she rose, and standing by the mantelpiece,
where he had stood before, she went on, with hurry and agitation in
her voice: "Don't mistake me. Love is dead and gone for me. But this
world is not the be-all and the end-all; there is an inheritance
beyond it, reserved for those who have 'overcome.' Duty is hard, but
it is never intolerable to a steadfast will, and a mind, fixed on the
truth. Time is long, and the round of wrong is tedious; but the day
wears through best to those who subdue impatience, and wrong
loses half its bitterness when self is conquered. I have learned my
lesson, Sir Laurence, and chosen my part."

"And what is to be mine?" he said with angry impatience,--"what is

to be mine? You moralize charmingly, Lady Mitford; and your system
is perfect, with one little exception--and what is that? A mere
nothing, a trifle--only a man's heart, only a love that is true! You are
all alike, I believe, bad or good, in this,--you will pine after, you will
endure anything for, a man who is false to you, and you will tread
upon the heart of one who is true. What do you care? We do not
square with the moral code of the good among you, nor with the
caprice and devilment of the bad; and so away with us! I am 'cruel'
to you, forsooth, because I tell you that you no longer love a
worthless profligate, who sports with your peace and your honour at
the bidding of a wanton! I am 'cruel' because I tell you that I, who
have innocently wronged you, love you with every pulse of my heart
and every impulse of my will! Is there any cruelty on your side, do
you think, when you talk, not puling sentiment--I could more easily
pardon that; it would be mere conventional silliness--but these chilly,
chilling moralities, which are fine in copy-books, but which men and
women abandon with their writing-lessons?"

"Do they?" she said with imperturbable gentleness; "I think not. You
are angry and unjust, Sir Laurence,--angry with me, unjust to me!"

The keen pathos of her tone, its innocent pleading, utterly overcame
him.

"Yes," he cried; "I am unjust, and you are an angel of goodness;

but--I love you,--ah, how I love you!--and you reject me, utterly,
utterly. You reject me, and for him! You give her a double triumph;
you lay my life waste once more."

He stopped in his hurried walk close to her. She laid her hand upon
his arm, and they looked at one another in silence for a little. She
broke it first.

"And if I did not reject you, as you say--if I accepted this love, this
compensating truth and loyalty, which you offer me, what should I
be, Laurence Alsager, but her compeer? Have you thought of that?
Have you remembered that there is a law in marriage apart from
and above all feeling? Have you considered what she who breaks
that law is, in the sight of God, in the unquenchable light of her own
conscience, though her conduct were as pure from stain as the
ermine of a royal robe? I am speaking, not chilly, chilling moralities,
but immortal, immutable truth. In the time to come you will
remember it, and believe it; and then there will be no bitterness in
your heart when you recollect how I bade you farewell!"

The lustrous eyes looked into his with a gaze as pure as an infant's,
as earnest as a sibyl's, and the gentle hand lay motionless upon his
arm.

"How you bade me farewell!" he repeated in a hoarse voice. "What

do you mean? Are you sending me from you?"

"Yes," she answered; "I am sending you from me. We have met
once too often, and we must meet no more. You say you love me;"
she shrunk and shivered again,--"and--and I believe you. Therefore
you will obey me."

"No," he said resolutely; "I will not obey you! I will see you,--I must.
What is there in my love to frighten or to harm you? I ask for
nothing which even your scrupulous conscience might hesitate to
give; I seek no change in the relation that has subsisted between us
for some time now."

"Dreams, dreams," she said, sadly; "unworthy of your sense,--

unworthy of your knowledge of the world. Nothing can ever replace
us on our old footing. The words you have spoken to me can never
be unsaid. They are words I never ought to have heard--and--" In a
moment her firmness deserted her, her voice failed; she sank into a
chair, and burst into passionate tears.

"You would not have them unsaid!" he cried; "tell me that you would
not! Tell me that the coldness and the calm which those streaming
tears deny are not true, are not real! Tell me that I am something in
your life,--that I might have been more! Dearest, I reverence as
much as I love you; but give me that one gleam of comfort. It
cannot make your heavenly rectitude and purity poorer, while to me
it will be boundless riches. Tell me that you could love me if you
would; tell me that the sacred barrier of your conscience is the only
one between us! I swear I will submit to that! I will not try to shake
or to remove it. Nay, more, I will leave you,--if indeed you persist in
commanding my absence,--if only you will tell me that under other
circumstances you would have loved me. Tell me this! I ask a great,
a priceless boon; but I do ask it. Dearest, will you not answer me?"
Her agitation, her tears, had reassured him, had broken the spell
which her calmness had imposed. The hope that had come to him
once or twice during their interview came again now, and stayed.

There was no sound for a while but that of her low rapid sobs. The
clocks upon the mantelpieces in the suite of rooms ticked loudly, and
their irritating metallic voices mingled strangely with the rushing
pulses of Alsager's frame, as he leant over her,--one arm round the
back of her chair, the other hand upon its velvet arm. His face was
bent above her drooping head; his thick moustache almost touched
the waved ridges of her scented hair. He implored her to speak to
him; he poured out protestation and entreaty with all the ardour of
his strong and fiery nature, with all the eloquence which slumbered
in him, unsuspected even by himself. Little by little she ceased to
weep, and at length she allowed him to see her face. Again he
renewed his entreaties, and she answered him.

"You try me too far, and I am weak. Yes, I would love you, if I
might!"

"Then you do love me!" he exclaimed. "You and I are no dreaming

boy and girl, no Knight and Dame of old romance, but man and
woman; and we know that these shades of difference are merest
imagination. We love each other, and we know it. We love each
other, and the acknowledgment makes the truth no truer. I am
ungenerous, you would say; I am breaking the promise I have just
made. Yes, I am; but I love you--and you love me!" He had dropped
on one knee beside her chair now, and as he spoke he caught her
hand in his. Without any sign of anger or prudery, she withdrew her
hand quietly, but resolutely, and signed to him to rise and be seated.
He obeyed her; but exultation shone out from every line and feature
of his face.