sage
to Mr. Gilmore;--a message which it would be her duty to give as soon
as possible, that he might extract from it such comfort as it would
contain for him,--though it would be his duty not to act upon it for,
at any rate, many months to come. "And it will be a comfort to him,"
said her husband when he read Miss Marrable's letter.

"Of all the men I know, he is the most constant," said Mrs. Fenwick,
"and best deserves that his constancy should be rewarded."

"It is the man's nature," said the parson. "Of course, he will get
her at last; and when he has got her, he will be quite contented with
the manner in which he has won her. There's nothing like going on
with a thing. I believe I might be a bishop if I set my heart on it."

"Why don't you, then?"

"I am not sure that the beauty of the thing is so well-defined to me
as is Mary Lowther's to poor Harry. In perseverance and success of
that kind the man's mind should admit of no doubt. Harry is quite
clear of this,--that in spite of Mary's preference for her cousin, it
would be the grandest thing in the world to him that she should marry
him. The certainty of his condition will pull him through at last."

Two days after this Mrs. Fenwick put Miss Marrable's letter into Mr.
Gilmore's hand,--having perceived that it was specially written that
it might be so treated. She kept it in her pocket till she should
chance to see him, and at last handed it to him as she met him
walking on his own grounds. "I have a letter from Loring," she said.

"From Mary?"

"No;--from Mary's aunt. I have it here, and I think you had better
read it. To tell you the truth, Harry, I have been looking for you
ever since I got it. Only you must not make too much of it."

Then he read the letter. "What do you mean," he asked, "by making too
much of it?"

"You must not suppose that Mary is the same as before she saw this
cousin of hers."

"But she is the same."

"Well;--yes, in body and in soul, no doubt. But such an experience
leaves a mark which cannot be rubbed out quite at once."

"You mean that I must wait before I ask her again."

"Of course you must wait. The mark must be rubbed out first, you
know."

"I will wait; but as for the rubbing out of the mark, I take it that
will be altogether beyond me. Do you think, Mrs. Fenwick, that no
woman should ever, under any circumstances, marry one man when she
loves another?"

She could not bring herself to tell him that in her opinio