would be to unfit
myself for His work.

The matter was settled in one way; but the pain of it took longer to come
to an end. It is sorrowful to me to remember now how hard it was to get
over. My vanity I was heartily ashamed of, and bade that show its head no
more; my emulation of Faustina St. Clair gave me some horror; but the
pleasure--the real honest pleasure, of the scene, and the music and the
excitement and the dancing and the seeing people--all that I did not let
go for ever without a hard time of sorrow and some tears. It was not a
_struggle_, for I gave that up at once; only I had to fight pain. It was
one of the hardest things I ever did in my life. And the worst of all and
the most incurable was, I should miss seeing Mr. Thorold. One or two more
walks, possibly, I might have with him; but those long, short evenings of
seeing and talking and dancing!

Mrs. Sandford argued, coaxed, and rallied me; and then said, if I
would not go, she should not; and she did not. That evening we spent
at home together, and alone; for everybody else had drifted over to
the hop. I suppose Mrs. Sandford found it dull; for the next hop night
she changed her mind and left me. I had rather a sorrowful evening.
Dr. Sandford had not come back from the mountains; indeed, I did not
wish for him; and Thorold had not been near us for several days. My
fairyland was getting disenchanted a little bit. But I was quite sure
I had done right.

The next morning, I had hardly been three minutes on my rock by the
river, when Mr. Thorold came round the turn of the walk and took a
seat beside me.

"How do you do?" said he, stretching out his hand. I put mine in it.

"What has become of my friend, this seven years?"

"I am here--" I said.

"I see you. But why have I _not_ seen you, all this while?"

"I suppose you have been busy," I answered.

"Busy! Of course I have, or I should have been here asking questions.
I was not too busy to dance with you: and I was promised--how many
dances? Where have you been?"

"I have been at home."

"Why?"

Would Mr. Thorold understand me? Mrs. Sandford did not. My own mother
never did. I hesitated, and he repeated his question, and those hazel
eyes were sparkling all sorts of queries around me.

"I have given up going to the hops," I said.

"Given up? Do you mean, you _don't_ mean, that you are never coming
any more?"

"I am not coming any more."

"Don't you sometimes change your decisions?"

"