any subject?"

"I believe he speaks truly."

"You know he speaks truly. He is the very soul of truth."

"But, Mary--"

"Well, Clara! But remember; do not answer me lightly. Do not play
with a man's heart because you have it in your power."

"You wrong me. I could never do like that. You tell me that he loves
me;--but what if I do not love him? Love will not be constrained. Am
I to say that I love him because I believe that he loves me?"

This was the argument, and Clara found herself driven to use it,--not
so much from its special applicability to herself, as on account of
its general fitness. Whether it did or did not apply to herself she
had no time to ask herself at that moment; but she felt that no man
could have a right to claim a woman's hand on the strength of his own
love,--unless he had been able to win her love. She was arguing on
behalf of women in general rather than on her own behalf.

"If you mean to tell me that you cannot love him, of course I must
give over," said Mary, not caring at all for men and women in
general, but full of anxiety for her brother. "Do you mean to say
that,--that you can never love him?" It almost seemed, from her
face, that she was determined utterly to quarrel with her new-found
cousin,--to quarrel and to go at once away if she got an answer that
would not please her.

"Dear Mary, do not press me so hard."

"But I want to press you hard. It is not right that he should lose
his life in longing and hoping."

"He will not lose his life, Mary."

"I hope not;--not if I can help it. I trust that he will be strong
enough to get rid of his trouble,--to put it down and trample it
under his feet." Clara, as she heard this, began to ask herself what
it was that was to be trampled under Will's feet. "I think he will
be man enough to overcome his passion; and then, perhaps,--you may
regret what you have lost."

"Now you are unkind to me."

"Well; what would you have me say? Do I not know that he is offering
you the best gift that he can give? Did I not begin by swearing to
you that he loved you with a passion of love that cannot but be
flattering to you? If it is to be love in vain, this to him is a
great misfortune. And, yet, when I say that I hope that he will
recover, you tell me that I am unkind."

"No;--not for that."

"May I tell him to come and plead for himself?"

Again Clara was silent, not knowing how to answer that last question.
And when she did answer it, sh