Second Part Chapter 49

Yet nature allows of no happiness without alloy; and deep down, in the
innermost recess of my heart, I am conscious of a lurking thought, not
shared with her, the pang of which is for me alone. You have too often
come to the help of my inveterate poverty to be ignorant how desperate
matters were with me. Where should I have found courage to keep up the
struggle of life, after seeing my hopes so often blighted, but for
your cheering words, your tactful aid, and the knowledge of what you
had come through? Briefly, then, my friend, she freed me from that
crushing load of debt, which was no secret to you. She is wealthy, I
am penniless.

Many a time have I exclaimed, in one of my fits of
idleness, "Oh for some great heiress to cast her eye on me!" And now,
in presence of this reality, the boy's careless jest, the unscrupulous
cynicism of the outcast, have alike vanished, leaving in their place
only a bitter sense of humiliation, which not the most considerate
tenderness on her part, nor my own assurance of her noble nature, can
remove. Nay, what better proof of my love could there exist, for her
or for myself, than this shame, from which I have not recoiled, even
when powerless to overcome it? The fact remains that there is a point
where, far from protecting, I am the protected.