heart. I know how its pulses
beat, Jessie Loring! There is only one living man who has the power
to unlock its treasures of affection. To all others it must remain
eternally sealed. I speak solemnly--not vainly. And your soul echoes
the truth of my words. It is not yet too late!"

"You should not have said this, Mr. Hendrickson!" Jessie resolutely
disengaged the hand he had taken, and was clasping with almost
vice-like pressure, and arose to her feet. He did not rise, but sat
looking up into her pale suffering face, with the light of hope,
which for a moment had flushed his own, fast decaying.

"You should not have said this, Mr. Hendrickson!" she repeated, in a
steadier voice. "It is too late, and only makes my task the
harder--my burden heavier. But God helping me, I will walk forward
in the right path, though my feet be lacerated at every step."

"Is it a right path, Miss Loring? I declare it to be the wrong
path!" said Hendrickson.

"Let God and my own conscience judge!" was firmly answered. "And
now, sir, leave me. Oh, leave me."

"And you are resolute?"

"I am! God being my helper, I will go forward in the path of duty.
When I faint and fall by the way through weakness, the trial will
end."

"Friends, wealth, social attractions--all that the world can give
will be yours. But my way must be lonely--my heart desolate. I shall
be"--

"Go, sir!" Miss Loring's voice was imperative, and there was a flash
like indignation in her eyes. "Go sir!" she repeated. "This is
unmanly!"

The last sentence stung Mr. Hendrickson, and he arose quickly. Miss
Loring, who saw the effect of her words, threw up, with a woman's
quick instinct, this further barrier between them--

"I marvel, sir, knowing, as you do, the sacred obligations under
which I rest, that you should have dared utter language such as my
ears have been compelled to hear this night! I take it as no
compliment, sir."

The young man attempted to speak; but with a sternness of manner
that sent a chill to his heart, she motioned him to be silent, and
went on--

"Let this, sir, be the last time you venture to repeat what I cannot
but regard as dis"--

Dishonorable was the word on her lips, but she suddenly checked
herself. She could not say that to him.

Waking or sleeping, alone or in society, for weeks, months and years
afterwards, the image of that young man's despairing face, as she
saw it then, was ever before her.

"Insult! Dishonor!" he said, a