, no
bounds for action and enterprise, would bring him back to his
determination not to swerve from his settled object.

Yet, after all, he could get only so near to Sarah Burns. He knew she
admired him--loved him--at least, was ready to love him; but this did
not bring him into close communion with her.

After that morning, Sarah's state of mind and heart was at least
tranquil. She possessed the true talisman; and it would have been in
vain for Hiram to attempt to disturb her repose. As I have said, he
understood this very well. He knew he could not trifle, or, as it is
called, flirt with Sarah; and he did not try. But after a while he was
piqued--then he did admire Sarah more than any girl he ever met.
Probably he loved her as much as he was capable of loving; which
was--not at all.

At last, just after the conclusion of some brilliant operations, as
Hiram called them, of Mr. Burns's, on a lovely day in the summer, when
nature was in her glory and all things were very beautiful at
Burnsville, Hiram--(I won't say he designed to be false, I have many
doubts on that head, and he is entitled to the benefit of them)--Hiram,
I say, encountered Sarah Burns a little out of the village, on a
romantic path, which he sometimes used as a cross cut to the mill.
Affairs were very flourishing--the place full of activity; Joel Burns
quite a king and general benefactor there; and Sarah Burns--a charming,
very charming girl --his only daughter.

Hiram came suddenly on her. Both stopped, of course.

* * * * *

Mr. Burns that day wondered--wondered exceedingly that the tried and
reliable Meeker should fail him on a very important occasion. Something
made it necessary that Hiram should visit Slab City, and return in the
course of the morning. But the morning passed, and no Hiram. Mr. Burns
drove to the mill: his clerk had not appeared there.

At dinner time the mystery was solved. Hiram, it seems, had been unable
to resist all the conspiring influences. When they met, the two had
wandered away toward a pleasant grove, and, seated at the foot of a
giant oak, he told Sarah Burns in most seductive terms how he loved her,
how he had always loved her since they met at Mrs. Croft's.

Sarah did as young girls always do: she burst into tears.

This was not at all to Hiram's taste.

(Don't be severe with him, reader: he could not appreciate the causes
which produce such emotions.)

He waited for what he