“You must think less about it. Remember that I confide in simple love and truth at last. Have no apprehensions for me, Trotwood,” she added, after a moment; “the step you dread my taking, I shall never take.”

Although I think I had never really feared it, in any season of cool reflection, it was an unspeakable relief to me to have this assurance from her own truthful lips. I told her so, earnestly.

“And when this visit is over,” said I⁠—“for we may not be alone another time⁠—how long is it likely to be, my dear Agnes, before you come to London again?”

“Probably a long time,” she replied; “I think it will be best⁠—for papa’s sake⁠—to remain at home. We are not likely to meet often, for some time to come; but I shall be a good correspondent of Dora’s, and we shall frequently hear of one another that way.”