t him. Yet what a shame it would be
to give such a devoted heart nothing better than one worn out, with the
power of love such as he deserved, exhausted for ever. And yet--and
yet--something very odd bounded up within her, and told her between shame
and exultation, that faithful old Humfrey would not be discontented even
with what she had to give. Another time--a little, a very little
encouragement, and the pine wood scene would come back again, and
then--her heart fainted a little--there should be no concealment--but if
she could only have been six months married all at once!

Time went on, and Honora more than once blushed at finding how strong a
hold this possibility had taken of her heart, when once she had begun to
think of resting upon one so kind, so good, so strong. Every perplexity,
every care, every transaction that made her feel her position as a single
woman, brought round the yearning to lay them all down upon him, who
would only be grateful to her for them. Every time she wanted some one
to consult, hope showed her his face beaming sweetly on her, and home
seemed to be again opening to her, that home which might have been hers
at any time these twelve years. She quite longed to see how glad the
dear, kind fellow would be.

Perhaps maidenly shame would have belied her feelings in his actual
presence, perhaps she would not have shrunk from him, and been more cold
than in her unconsciousness, but he came not; and his absence fanned the
spark so tardily kindled. What if she had delayed till too late? He was
a man whose duty it was to marry! he had waited till he was some years
past forty--perhaps this had been his last attempt, and he was carrying
his addresses elsewhere.

Well! Honora believed she had tried to act rightly, and that must be her
comfort--and extremely ashamed of herself she was, to find herself
applying such a word to her own sensations in such a case--and very much
disliking the notion of any possible lady at Hiltonbury Holt.

CHAPTER III

There is a reaper, his name is Death,
And with his sickle keen,
He reaps the bearded grain at a breath,
And the flowers that grow between.--LONGFELLOW

A letter from Humfrey! how Honor's heart fluttered. Would it announce an
engagement, or would it promise a visit on which her fate would turn, or
would it be only a business letter on her money matters?

Angry at her own trepidation, she opened it. It was none of