she would be bound to give him her answer,--an answer which must then
be final. And as she said this to herself she found that she was
admitting a doubt. She hardly knew how not to doubt, knowing, as she
did, that all whom she loved were on one side, while on the other
was nothing but the stubbornness of her own convictions. But still
the conviction was left to her. Over and over again she declared to
herself that it was not fit, meaning thereby to assure herself that
a higher duty even than that which she owed to her friends, demanded
from her that she should be true to her convictions. She met him that
day at dinner, but he hardly spoke to her. They sat together in the
same room during the evening, but she hardly once heard his voice.
It seemed to her that he avoided even looking at her. When they
separated for the night he parted from her almost as though they
had been strangers. Surely he was angry with her because she was
stubborn,--thought evil of her because she would not do as others
wished her! She lay awake during the long night thinking of it all.
If it might be so! Oh;--if it might be so! If it might be done
without utter ruin to her own self-respect as a woman!

In the morning she was down early,--not having anything to say,
with no clear purpose as yet before her,--but still with a feeling
that perhaps that morning might alter all things for her. He was
the latest of the party, not coming in for prayers as did all the
others, but taking his seat when the others had half finished their
breakfast. As he sat down he gave a general half-uttered greeting to
them all, but spoke no special word to any of them. It chanced that
his seat was next to hers, but to her he did not address himself at
all. Then the meal was over, and the chairs were withdrawn, and the
party grouped itself about with vague, uncertain movements, as men
and women do before they leave the breakfast table for the work of
the day. She meditated her escape, but felt that she could not leave
the room before Lady Wharton or Mrs. Fletcher,--who had remained
at Wharton to keep her mother company for a while. At last they
went;--but then, just as she was escaping, he put his hand upon her
and reminded her of her appointment. "I shall be in the hall in a
quarter of an hour," he said. "Will you meet me there?" Then she
bowed her head to him and passed on.

She was there at the time named and found him standing by the hall
door, waiting for her. His h