Fleda was silent, with a face of white determination.
"It will be beyond eluding, as beyond recal, the second time. I may seem selfish I am selfish but, dear Miss Ringgan, you do not see all you, who make me so, can make me anything else with a touch of your hand it is selfishness that would be bound to your happiness, if you did but entrust it to me."
Fleda neither spoke nor looked at him, and rose up from her chair.
"Is this your generosity?" he said, pointedly, though gently.
"That is not the question now, Sir," said Fleda, who was trembling painfully. "I cannot do evil that good may come."
"But evil?" said he, detaining her "what evil do I ask of you? to remove evil, I do."
Fleda clasped her hands, but answered calmly
"I cannot make any pretences, Sir; I cannot promise to give what is not in my power."
"In whose power, then?" said he, quickly.
A feeling of indignation came to Fleda's aid, and she turned away. But he stopped her still.