"But you will not again embark in any such desperate venture as—as——"
"As the forged bills, you would say, Ellen," added Greenwood, hastily. "No:—be not alarmed on this head. I will not sully that name which he has rendered great."
"Oh! do you not remember," cried Ellen, as a sudden reminiscence shot through her brain, "that on the morning when our hands were united, you promised that the name which you then gave me should go down to posterity?"
"It will—it will: the prediction is already fulfilled, Ellen," said Greenwood, hastily;—"but not by me!" he added mournfully. "I know not why I feel so low spirited to-night; and yet your presence consoles me! Richard now clasps his lovely bride in his arms—and we are forced to snatch this stolen interview, as if we had no right to each other's society!"
"And whose fault is that?" asked Ellen, somewhat reproachfully. "Is it not in your power to put an end to all this mystery?"
"I cannot—I will not," returned Greenwood, with renewed impetuosity. "No—let us not touch upon the topic again. My resolves are immoveable on that point. If you love me, urge me not to inflict so deep a wound upon my pride. This lowness of spirits will soon pass away: I am afraid that envy—or jealousy, rather—has in some degree depressed me. And yet envy is not the term—nor does jealousy express the true nature, of my sentiments. For, in spite of all my faults, I have loved him, Ellen—as you well know. But it is that I feel disappointed—almost disgusted:—I have as yet toiled for naught! I contrast my position with his—and that makes me mournful. Still I am proud of him, Ellen:—I cannot be otherwise."
"That is a generous feeling," said Ellen, again embracing her husband: "it does me good to hear you express such a sentiment."
"I scarcely know what I have been saying," continued Greenwood: "my mind is chaotic—my ideas are confused. Let us now separate; we will meet again shortly—and I will tell you of my progress towards the fortune which I am resolved to acquire."
"Yes—let us meet again soon," said Ellen; "but not here," she added, glancing towards the trees. "It makes you melancholy."
"Well—well: I will find another spot for our interviews. Farewell, Ellen—dearest Ellen."