.

"But I am writing about everything except what I want to say, or rather
to ask, for I tremble to ask it. Are you interested in any way other
than as a friend in Miss Isabel Marlay? You will guess why I ask the
question. Since I met her I have thought of her a great deal, and I may
add to you that I have anxiously sought divine guidance in a matter
likely to affect the usefulness of my whole life. I will not take a
single step in the direction in which my heart has been so suddenly
drawn, if you have any prior claim, or even the remotest hope of
establishing one in some more favorable time. Far be it from me to add a
straw to the heavy burden you have had to bear. I expect to be in
Metropolisville again soon, and will see your mother once more. Please
answer me with frankness, and believe me,

"Always your friend,

J.H. LURTON."

The intelligence regarding his mother's health was not new to Albert, for
Isa had told him fully of her state. It would be difficult to describe
the feeling of mingled pain and pleasure with which he read Lurton's
confession of his sudden love for Isabel. Nothing since his imprisonment
had so humbled Charlton as the recollection of the mistake he had made in
his estimate of Helen Minorkey, and his preference for her over Isa. He
had lain on his cot sometimes and dreamed of what might have been if he
had escaped prison and had chosen Isabel instead of Helen. He had
pictured to himself the content he might have had with such a woman for a
wife. But then the thought of his disgrace--a disgrace he could not share
with a wife--always dissipated the beautiful vision and made the hard
reality of what was, seem tenfold harder for the ravishing beauty of what
might have been.

And now the vision of the might-have-been came back to him more clearly
than ever, and he sat a long while with his head leaning on his hand.
Then the struggle passed, and he lighted his little ration of candle,
and wrote:

"SUNDAY EVENING.

"REV. J.H. LURTON:

"DEAR SIR: You have acted very honorably in writing me as you have, and I
admire you now more than ever. You fulfill my ideal of a Christian. I
never had the slightest claim or the slightest purpose to establish any
claim on Isabel Marlay, for I was so blinded by self-conceit, that I did
not appreciate her until it was too late. And now! What have I to offer
to any woman? The love of a convicted felon! A name tarnished forever!
No! I shall never share that with