How shall I ever thank you enough for
sacrificing yourself as you did for me?"

"Well," he answered with a smile, "I suppose I ought to say that you
have nothing to thank me for. And yet I do think that I may accept of
some thanks--and, to tell the truth, I have just come over to suggest
the best way in which the thanks may be given."

Mary did not answer, but looked down; and, spite of herself, her tears
would fall fast.

"Dear Mary," he said, "the plainest and shortest way is the one that
suits me best. I want you to give me your heart--you have had mine long
ago, and I think you know it."

She did not speak.

"Oh, Mary, dearest Mary, can I be mistaken? Cannot you--do not you love
me?"

"Frank," she replied, in a low and tearful voice, "it would be
affectation in me to make a show of concealing my love to you. I _do_
love you. I never knew it till that day; but since then I have known
that my heart is yours."

She said this so sadly, that he asked half seriously, half playfully,--

"Would you then wish to have it back again?"

"No, dear Frank; I cannot wish _that_."

"Then one day--if we are spared--you will be my own loving wife?"

There was no reply, but only a burst of tears.

"Mary, dearest Mary, what am I to understand? Do your parents object to
your engaging yourself to me? Oh, surely it is not so?"

"No, Frank; they have not objected--not exactly--but--"

She hesitated and looked down.

"Oh, why then not give me a plain `Yes' at once? You own that your
heart is mine--you _know_ that my heart is yours--why not then promise
to be mine altogether?"

"It is true, dear Frank," she replied slowly, "that my heart is yours--I
cannot take it back if I would--but it may be my duty not to give my
hand with it."

"Your duty! Oh, Mary, what a cold, cruel speech! Why your duty?"

"Well," she replied, "the plain truth is best, and best when soonest
spoken. You must know, dear Frank, how we all here feel about the sin
and misery caused by strong drink. And you must know--oh, forgive me
for saying it, but I must say it, I must be open with you _now_ on this
subject--you must know that we have reason to fear that your own liking
for beer and wine and such things has been, for the last year or two, on
the increase. And oh, we fear--we fear that, however unconsciously, you
may be on the downward road to--to--"

She could not finish her sentence.

Frank hung down his head, and turned half away