e is all against it,
and God knew best when He made me care more for another fashion of
life. Don't make me seem unkind! I dare say that I can put it all into
words better by and by, but I can never be more certain of it in my
own heart than now."

"Sit down a minute," said Miss Prince, slowly. "George can wait. But,
Anna, I believe that you are in love with him, and that you are doing
wrong to the poor lad, and to yourself, and to me. I lost the best
happiness of my life for a whim, and you wish to throw away yours for
a theory. I hope you will be guided by me. I have come to love you
very much, and it seems as if this would be so reasonable."

"It does make a difference to me that he loves me," confessed the
girl. "It is not easy to turn away from him," she said,--still
standing, and looking taller than ever, and even thin, with a curious
tenseness of her whole being. "It is something that I have found it
hard to fight against, but it is not my whole self longing for his
love and his companionship. If I heard he had gone to the other side
of the world for years and years, I should be glad now and not sorry.
I know that all the world's sympathy and all tradition fight on his
side; but I can look forward and see something a thousand times better
than being his wife, and living here in Dunport keeping his house, and
trying to forget all that nature fitted me to do. You don't
understand, Aunt Nancy. I wish you could! You see it all another way."
And the tears started to the eager young eyes. "Don't you know that
Cousin Walter said this very day that the wind which sets one vessel
on the right course may set another on the wrong?"

"Nonsense, my dear," said the mistress of the house. "I don't think
this is the proper time for you to explain yourself at any rate. I
dare say the fresh air will do you good and put everything right too.
You have worked yourself into a great excitement over nothing. Don't
go out looking so desperate to the poor fellow; he will think
strangely of it;" and the girl went out through the wide hall, and
wished she were far away from all this trouble.

Nan had felt a strange sense of weariness, which did not leave her
even when she was quieted by the fresh breeze of the river-shore, and
was contented to let her oars be stowed in the bottom of the boat, and
to take the comfortable seat in the stern. She pulled the tiller ropes
over her shoulders, and watched her lover's first strong strokes,
wh