into the room a few
minutes later, it was to find Mr. Sylvester awaiting her with an
expression that was almost radiant. It made her duty seem doubly hard,
and she came forward with the slow step of one who goes to meet or carry
doom. He saw, and instantly the light died out of his face, leaving it
one blank of despair. But controlling himself, he took her cold hand in
his, and looking down upon her with a tender but veiled regard, asked in
those low and tremulous tones that exerted such an influence upon her:

"Do I see before me my affectionate and much to be cherished child, or
that still dearer object of love and worship, which it shall be the
delight of my life to render truly and deeply happy?"

"You see," returned she, after a moment of silent emotion, "a girl
without father or brother to advise her; who loves, or believes she
does, a great and noble man, but who is smitten with fear also, she
cannot tell why, and trembles to take a step to which no loving and
devoted friend has set the seal of his approval."

The clasp with which Mr. Sylvester held her hand in his, tightened for
an instant with irrepressible emotion, then slowly unloosed. Drawing
back, he surveyed her with eyes that slowly filled with a bitter
comprehension of her meaning.

"You are the only man," continued she, with a glance of humble entreaty,
"that has ever stood to me for a moment in the light of a relation. You
_have_ been a father to me in days gone by, and to you it therefore
seems most natural for me to appeal when a question comes up that either
puzzles or distresses me. Mr. Sylvester, you have offered me your love
and the refuge of your home; if you say that in your judgment the
counsel of all true friends would be for me to accept this love, then my
hand is yours and with it my heart; a heart that only hesitates because
it would fain be sure it has the smile of heaven upon its every
prompting."

"Paula!"

The voice was so strange she looked up to see if it really was Mr.
Sylvester who spoke. He had sunk back into a chair and had covered his
face with his hands. With a cry she moved towards him, but he motioned
her back.

"Condemned to be my own executioner!" he muttered. "Placed on the rack
and bid to turn the wheel that shall wrench my own sinews! My God, 'tis
hard!"

She did not hear the words, but she saw the action. Slowly the blood
left her cheek, and her hand fell upon her swelling breast with a
despairing gesture tha