py, his love would have become real, and would have surprised
both himself and her by its strength and its steadiness. But he had
never dreamed of such a thing as a refusal, and he had hastened his
proposal, not from any feeling of insecurity, but from a desire to make
Elsie very happy, and to do it as soon as possible.

But he had been refused--positively refused. Elsie might have said more
of the obligation to him--might have been more grateful for the
compliment which he had paid to her--Walter Brandon thought it would
have been graceful to do so; but she said nothing of the kind. She sat
in a rigid, painful silence till they reached the next station, where
other passengers joined them, and put an end to a TETE-A-TETE which was
rather awkward for both parties. She felt that she had given pain and
mortification to a man who had meant well by her, and she did not dare
to open her lips in consolation or extenuation. She could not trust
herself to speak; she would not venture to renew any solicitation.
Forlorn and humbled as she was, she felt that she was in the greatest
danger; that it was a tremendous bribe that was offered to her. She had
Peggy's story ringing in her ears, and thought of Peggy's insight and
Peggy's courage. The weak and facile Mr. Brandon was apt to fall in
love, or to fancy that he did so, with any woman he came in much
contact with, and she was as unsuitable for him, even more unsuitable,
than Peggy was. The discipline of the last ten months had been too
severe for her; it had crushed her spirit, and injured her health. She
felt alarmed about her cough, and recently had been thinking more of
the blessedness of an early death than the happiness of an early
marriage. She felt herself to be sickly, low-spirited, wanting in
energy, no fit companion for any colonist, and especially unfit to be
the wife of a man of so little force of character. His offer appeared
to her to be rash and imprudent. What did he know of her to warrant him
in risking his life's happiness in such a way? But yet, though it was
foolish in him to ask her, and though it would have been very wrong in
her to accept of him, she was grateful, so grateful. How little Walter
Brandon could guess how grateful she felt, when, after their journey
was over, he took her cold, trembling hand, and placed her in the
carriage that was to take them to Dr. Phillips's.

"You seem afraid of me, Miss Alice," said he. "Do not think that I will
say anoth