, was true
to his interests."

"My child;--my child!" said Mrs. Roden, taking Marion in her arms.

"Do you think that I do not know,--that I have forgotten? Was it
nothing to me to see my--mother die, and her little ones? Do I not
know that I am not, as others are, free to wed, not a lord like that,
but even one of my own standing? Mrs. Roden, if I can live till my
poor father shall have gone before me, so that he may not be left
alone when the weakness of age shall have come upon him,--then,--then
I shall be satisfied to follow them. No dream of loving had ever
crossed my mind. He has come, and without my mind, the dream has been
dreamed. I think that my lot will be happier so, than if I had passed
away without any feeling such as that I have now. Perhaps he will not
marry till I am gone."

"Would that hurt you so sorely?"

"It ought not. It shall not. It will be well that he should marry,
and I will not wish to cause him evil. He will have gone away, and I
shall hardly know of it. Perhaps they will not tell me." Mrs. Roden
could only embrace her, sobbing, wiping her eyes with piteousness.
"But I will not begrudge aught of the sacrifice," she continued.
"There is nothing, I think, sweeter than to deny oneself all things
for love. What are our lessons for but to teach us that? Shall I not
do unto him as it would be well for me that some such girl should do
for my sake if I were such as he?"

"Oh, Marion, you have got the better part."

"And yet,--and yet--. I would that he should feel a little because
he cannot have the toy that has pleased his eye. What was it that he
saw in me, do you think?" As she asked the question she cheered up
wonderfully.

"The beauty of your brow and eyes,--the softness of your woman's
voice."

"Nay, but I think it was my Quaker dress. His eye, perhaps, likes
things all of a colour. I had, too, new gloves and a new frock when
he saw me. How well I remember his coming,--how he would glance round
at me till I hardly knew whether I was glad that he should observe
me so much,--or offended at his persistence. I think that I was glad,
though I told myself that he should not have glanced at me so often.
And then, when he asked us to go down to his house I did long,--I did
long,--to win father's consent to the journey. Had he not gone--"

"Do not think of it, Marion."

"That I will not promise;--but I will not talk of it. Now, dear Mrs.
Roden, let all then be as though it had never been.