give
you pain; but I feel sure that I should never come to love you in
that way."

And she burst into tears.

"Do not think anything more about it, dear," Frank Mallett said,
gently. "I have felt sometimes when we have been together, that you
were so kindly and frank and pleasant with me that you could feel
as I wanted you to. I ought to have known it always. But I suppose
in such cases a man deceives himself and shuts his eyes to facts.
You have certainly nothing to blame yourself about. Of course, it
is a hard blow, but no doubt I shall get over it as other fellows
do. At any rate, I know that we shall always be dear friends, and
you need not fear that I shall mope over my misfortune. I shall run
up to town for a bit, and as you are going up for the season next
week, I shall no doubt often meet you. Don't fret about me. I have
been hit pretty hard several times, though not in the same way, and
I have always gone through it, and no doubt I shall do so now.

"Goodbye," and when Bertha looked up, he had left the room.

"Oh, mamma," she said, when she went into the room where her mother
was sitting, "I am so sorry, so dreadfully sorry. Frank Mallett has
asked me to be his wife. I have never thought of such a thing and
of course I had to say no."

"I have thought such a thing likely for some time, Bertha, but I
thought it best to hold my tongue about it. In such matters the
interference of a mother often does more harm than good. I felt
sure, by your manner with him, that you had no idea of it; and I
must say that much as I like Frank Mallett, I should have been
sorry. I have great hopes of your making a really first-class
match."

"I could not make a better match," Bertha said, indignantly. "No
one could be kinder or nicer than Major Mallett, and we know how
brave he is and how he has distinguished himself, and he has a good
estate and everything that anyone could wish; only unfortunately I
do not love him--at least not in that way. He has never shown me
what I should consider any particular attention, and never talked
to me in the way men do when they are making love to a girl.
Nothing could be nicer, and it was all the nicer because I never
thought of this. I suppose it is because he is so different from
some of the men I met in town last season, who always seemed to be
trying to get round me. No, I know it is not a nice expression,
mamma, but you know what I mean."

"I know, my dear," her mother smiled. "Of