this
step. Clifton at first did not acknowledge to himself that his interest
in Mr Langden's daughter had much to do with the decision. There were
good reasons enough for it to fall back upon without this, and these
were so clearly and earnestly dwelt on in his talks with his sister,
that he went far toward convincing himself that to settle in Gershom and
do as his father had done before him was the most reasonable course to
take.

He had greatly admired Miss Langden everybody saw, and a good many
people had seemed to see that the admiration was mutual. But if their
intercourse had ended when they left Gershom, it would hardly have gone
further than admiration between them. Up to that time Clifton had
shared the general opinion that Miss Essie would at some future day
probably become a resident of the parsonage, and he had his doubts, as
some others in Gershom had, whether that might prove the most suitable
place for the dainty little lady.

But the sail together down the Saint Lawrence changed his opinion, and
set his doubts at rest. Mr Maxwell was almost her dearest friend, as
his mother had been the dearest friend of her Aunt Martha. He was like
a cousin or an elder brother, she said, admiring and praising him quite
openly, as no young lady would be likely to speak of her lover. And as
for the parsonage, well, the intimations, quite frankly given, as to
what she meant to see and to do in the future, did not point that way.
And Clifton told himself, as he listened to her, that having seen them
so much together, he might have known from the nature of their
intercourse that there was nothing but friendship between them.

In the comparative isolation of the sail on the two great rivers, these
young people became more intimate than they could have become in so
short a time in almost any other circumstances, and Miss Essie was a
pretty and winning little creature. She was very frank and friendly
with him, and an occasional touch of shyness and reserve made her
frankness and friendliness all the more charming. What with the one way
and the other, she bewitched the happy young fellow, and she had
bewitched several others since the Thanksgiving visit of Mr Maxwell.

Clifton scarcely knew what had happened to him till he stood in the
desolate station in Montreal, watching the train that carried her and
her friends to meet the upward-bound boat at Lachine. After that there
came with the thought of the pretty, bri