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godlike, in order that women, all but goddesslike, might love? To
love thoroughly, truly, heartily, with her whole body, soul, heart,
and strength; should not that be counted for a merit in a woman? And
yet we are wont to make a disgrace of it. We do so most unnaturally,
most unreasonably; for we expect our daughters to get themselves
married off our hands. When the period of that step comes, then love
is proper enough; but up to that--before that--as regards all those
preliminary passages which must, we suppose, be necessary--in all
those it becomes a young lady to be icy-hearted as a river-god in
winter.

O whistle and I'll come to you, my lad!
O whistle and I'll come to you, my lad!
Tho' father and mither and a' should go mad,
O whistle and I'll come to you, my lad!

This is the kind of love which a girl should feel before she puts her
hand proudly in that of her lover, and consents that they two shall
be made one flesh.

Mary felt no such love as this. She, too, had some inner perception
of that dread destiny by which it behoved Frank Gresham to be
forewarned. She, too--though she had never heard so much said in
words--had an almost instinctive knowledge that his fate required him
to marry money. Thinking over this in her own way, she was not slow
to convince herself that it was out of the question that she should
allow herself to love Frank Gresham. However well her heart might
be inclined to such a feeling, it was her duty to repress it. She
resolved, therefore, to do so; and she sometimes flattered herself
that she had kept her resolution.

These were bad times for the doctor, and bad times for Mary too. She
had declared that she could live without going to Greshamsbury; but
she did not find it so easy. She had been going to Greshamsbury all
her life, and it was as customary with her to be there as at home.
Such old customs are not broken without pain. Had she left the place
it would have been far different; but, as it was, she daily passed
the gates, daily saw and spoke to some of the servants, who knew her
as well as they did the young ladies of the family--was in hourly
contact, as it were, with Greshamsbury. It was not only that she
did not go there, but that everyone knew that she had suddenly
discontinued doing so. Yes, she could live without going to
Greshamsbury; but for some time she had but a poor life of it. She
felt, nay, almost heard, that every man and woman, boy and girl, i