h a mist of tears.

"You _wish_ to marry this man, I suppose--I am ignorant of his name?" he
asked, watching her with attention.

"His name is Erastus Pronando; we were children together on the island,"
she answered, in a low voice, with downcast eyes.

"And you wish to marry him?"

"I do."

Gregory Dexter put another disappointment down upon the tablets of his
memory--a disappointment and a surprise; he had not once doubted his
success.

In this certainty he had been deceived partly by Miss Vanhorn, and
partly by Anne herself; by her unstudied frankness. He knew that she
liked him, but he had mistaken the nature of her regard. He could always
control himself, however, and he now turned to her kindly. He thought
she was afraid of her aunt. "Sit down for a few minutes more," he said,
"and tell me about it. Why does Miss Vanhorn disapprove?"

"I do not know," replied Anne; "or, rather, I do know, but can not tell
you. Never mind about me, Mr. Dexter. I am unhappy; but no one can help
me. I must help myself."

"Mr. Pronando should esteem it his dearest privilege to do so," said
Dexter, who felt himself growing old and cynical under this revelation
of fresh young love.

"Yes," murmured Anne, then stopped. "If you will leave me now," she
said, after a moment, "it would be very kind."

"I will go, of course, if you desire it; but first let me say one word.
Your aunt objects to this engagement, and you have neither father nor
mother to take your part. I have a true regard for you, which is not
altered by the personal disappointment I am at present feeling; it is
founded upon a belief in you which can not change. Can I not help you,
then, as a friend? For instance, could I not help Mr. Pronando--merely
as a friend? I know what it is to have to make one's own way in the
world unaided. I feel for such boys--I mean young men. What does he
intend to do? Give me his address."

"No," said Anne, touched by this prompt kindness. "But I feel your
generosity, Mr. Dexter; I shall never forget it." Her eyes filled with
tears, but she brushed them away. "Will you leave me now?" she said.

"Would it not be better if we returned together? I mean, would not Miss
Vanhorn notice it less? You could excuse yourself soon afterward."

"You are right. I will go down with you. But first, do I not show--" she
went toward the mirror.

"Show what?" said Dexter, following her, and standing by her side. "That
you are one of the loveliest