rom her,
and in wishing this he had been unreasonable. He walked for a while
about the room, and then going up to her he stood close by her and
took her hand. "Mary," he said, "I'm sure you're not a bad girl."

"No;" she said, "no, I ain't;" still sobbing convulsively. "I didn't
mean anything wrong, and I couldn't help it."

"I am sure you did not, and nobody has said you did."

"Yes, they have. She has said so. She said that I was a bad girl. She
told me so, up to my face."

"She was very wrong if she said so."

"She did then, and I couldn't bear it."

"I have not said so, and I don't think so. Indeed in all this matter
I believe that I have been more to blame than you."

"No;--I know I was wrong. I know I shouldn't have gone to see him."

"I won't even say as much as that, Mary. What you should have
done;--only the task would have been too hard for any young girl--was
to have told me openly that you--liked this young gentleman."

"But I don't want ever to see him again."

"Look here, Mary," he said. But now he had dropped her hand and taken
a chair opposite to her. He had begun to find that the task which he
had proposed to himself was not so easy even for him. "Look here,
Mary. I take it that you do like this young gentleman. Don't answer
me till I have finished what I am going to say. I suppose you do like
him,--and if so it would be very wicked in you to marry me."

"Oh, Mr. Graham--"

"Wait a moment, Mary. But there is nothing wicked in your liking
him." It may be presumed that Mr. Graham would hold such an opinion
as this, seeing that he had allowed himself the same latitude of
liking. "It was perhaps only natural that you should learn to do
so. You have been taught to regard me rather as a master than as a
lover."

"Oh, Mr. Graham, I'm sure I've loved you. I have indeed. And I will.
I won't even think of Al--"

"But I want you to think of him,--that is if he be worth thinking
of."

"He's a very good young man, and always lives with his mother."

"It shall be my business to find out that. And now Mary, tell me
truly. If he be a good young man, and if he loves you well enough to
marry you, would you not be happier as his wife than you would as
mine?"

There! The question that he wished to ask her had got itself asked at
last. But if the asking had been difficult, how much more difficult
must have been the answer! He had been thinking over all this for the
last fortnight, and had hardly known