stronger every day since we met. I have not known you
long, but what has time to do with such sentiments? I have so hoped that
you would reciprocate my love and think kindly of my suit. I have often
wondered at your preoccupation, but hope there is nothing in your plans
or purposes which will prevent our being forever united."

Pausing, Oswald noted Esther's tremor, but awaited her response.

In hesitating, plaintive voice, Esther said:

"Mr. Langdon, I greatly appreciate your sentiments toward me, and feel
much interest in your future. No light consideration would influence me
in such an important decision. I have no words to tell you how it pains
me to decline such an honorable proposal. I too will always have tender
recollections of your stay at Northfield. My life will be devoted to
alleviating the sorrows of the poor and wretched. This vow was taken
before you came to Northfield, and I must not break it, though the trial
be indeed very hard. My life as your wife would be against the plain
dictates of duty and a breach of covenant with Heaven."

Completely stunned, Oswald felt the decisive solemnity of Esther's
words, but could find no fitting reply. He had too much respect for her
good opinion, even though she crush his fondest hopes, to argue against
the grounds of her decision. There was something so intangible, yet
solemnly real, in this decisive consecration to holy ends that Oswald
experienced a sense of bewilderment and awe, rendering nerveless his
imperious will.

Following some further explanations by Esther for her fixed resolve,
they had returned and joined their friends without more than a few
words.

Having retired to his room, Oswald pondered long and bitterly over the
unwelcome revelations of the day. Esther had told him that for a long
time she had been thinking of her chosen life-work, but was fully
decided in this resolve by the solemn words of a minister spoken while
she was at London. Oswald had no censure for this high-principled,
conscientious girl's infatuation, but indignantly railed against her
spiritual advisers. These promoters of high ethical philosophy were safe
from undue force of their own appeals, though more susceptible hearts
might be crushed through conscientious compliance. It maddened Oswald
that this lovely girl, with all her perfections of mind, face, and form,
should be cast, like a common worm, into the great, vulgar, carnivorous
mouth of human want. If Christ's ultimat