 no, gentlemen - upon my truth!«
    His homely figure seemed to be lightened up by his fidelity and generosity.
Every word he uttered had a force that no other grace could have imparted to it.
    »My life with this lady has been very happy. Until to-night, I have had
uninterrupted occasion to bless the day on which I did her great injustice.«
    His voice, more and more faltering in the utterance of these words, stopped
for a few moments; then he went on:
    »Once awakened from my dream - I have been a poor dreamer, in one way or
other, all my life - I see how natural it is that she should have some regretful
feeling towards her old companion and her equal. That she does regard him with
some innocent regret, with some blameless thoughts of what might have been, but
for me, is, I fear, too true. Much that I have seen, but not noted, has come
back upon me with new meaning, during this last trying hour. But, beyond this,
gentlemen, the dear lady's name never must be coupled with a word, a breath, of
doubt.«
    For a little while, his eye kindled and his voice was firm; for a little
while he was again silent. Presently, he proceeded as before:
    »It only remains for me, to bear the knowledge of the unhappiness I have
occasioned, as submissively as I can. It is she who should reproach; not I. To
save her from misconstruction, cruel misconstruction, that even my friends have
not been able to avoid, becomes my duty. The more retired we live, the better I
shall discharge it. And when the time comes - may it come soon, if it be His
merciful pleasure! - when my death shall release her from constraint, I shall
close my eyes upon her honoured face, with unbounded confidence and love; and
leave her, with no sorrow then, to happier and brighter days.«
    I could not see him for the tears which his earnestness and goodness, so
adorned by, and so adorning, the perfect simplicity of his manner, brought into
my eyes. He had moved to the door, when he added:
    »Gentlemen, I have shown you my heart. I am sure you will respect it. What
we have said to-night is never to be said more. Wickfield, give me an old
friend's arm upstairs!«
    Mr. Wickfield hastened to him. Without interchanging a word they went slowly
out of the room together,
