ardly know what I shall say to him. I shall try to--to love him."

"Of course you will love him,--better than all the world."

"I know that he is paying me the greatest compliment that a man can
pay to a woman. And there is no earthly reason why I should not be
proud to accept all that he offers me. I have nothing of my own to
bestow in return."

"But you are so beautiful."

Mary would make no pretence of denying this. It was true that that
one great feminine possession did belong to her. "After all," she
said, "how little does beauty signify! It attracts, but it can make
no man happy. He has everything to give to a wife, and he ought to
have much in return for what he gives."

"You don't mean that a girl should refuse a rich man because she has
no fortune of her own?"

"No; not quite that. But she ought to think whether she can be of use
to him."

"Of course you will be of use, my dear;--of the greatest use in the
world. That's his affair, and he is the best judge of what will be of
use. You will love him, and other men will envy him, and that will be
everything. Oh dear, I do so hope he will come soon."

"And I,--I almost hope he will not. I shall be so afraid to see him.
The first meeting will be so awful. I shall not dare to look him in
the face."

"But it is all settled."

"No;--not settled, Clary."

"Yes; it is settled. And now I will tell you what I mean when I say I
do not begrudge him to you. That is--; I do not know whether you will
care to be told."

"I care very much, Clary. I should be very unhappy if you did
begrudge me anything."

"Of course you know that our Ralph Newton, as we call him, ought to
have been the heir."

"Oh, yes."

"I needn't explain it all; only,--only--"

"Only he is everything to you. Is it that, Clary?"

"Yes; it is that. He is everything to me. I love him--. Oh, yes, I do
love him! But, Mary, I am not such a happy girl as you are. Sometimes
I think he hardly cares for me."

"But he has asked you to care for him?"

"Well;--I don't know. I think he has. He has told me, I know, that he
loved me dearly,--better than any one."

"And what answer did you make to him, Clary?"

Clarissa had the whole scene on the lawn at Popham Villa so clearly
impressed upon her memory, that an eternity of years, as she thought,
could obliterate no one of its incidents and render doubtful no tone
of his voice, no word that her lover had spoken. His conduct had at
that time been s