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Book, page 81 / 114 to one of mingled pain and pity, as she turned her face away, murmuring in a tone of tender sorrow, "Poor Lucia, who will comfort her?" For a moment Coventry stood silent, as if weighing some fateful purpose in his mind. As Jean's rapt sigh of compassion reached his ear, he had echoed it within himself, and half repented of his resolution; then his eye rested on the girl before him looking so lonely in her sweet sympathy for another that his heart yearned toward her. Sudden fire shot into his eye, sudden warmth replaced the cold sternness of his face, and his steady voice faltered suddenly, as he said, very low, yet very earnestly, "Jean, I have tried to love her, but I cannot. Ought I to deceive her, and make myself miserable to please my family?" "She is beautiful and good, and loves you tenderly; is there no hope for her?" asked Jean, still pale, but very quiet, though she held one hand against her heart, as if to still or hide its rapid beating. "None," answered Coventry. "But can you not learn to love her? Your will is strong, and most men would not find it a hard task." "I cannot, for something stronger than my own will controls me." "What is that?" And Jean's dark eyes were fixed upon him, full of innocent wonder. His fell, and he said hastily, "I dare not tell you yet." "Pardon! I should not have asked. Do not consult me in this matter; I am not the person to advise you. I can only say that it seems to me as if any man with an empty heart would be glad to have so beautiful a woman as your cousin." "My heart is not empty," began Coventry, drawing a step nearer, and speaking in a passionate voice. "Jean, I _must_ speak; hear me. I cannot love my cousin, because I love you." "Stop!" And Jean sprang up with a commanding gesture. "I will not hear you while any promise binds you to another. Remember your mother's
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