r. Dillwyn there. And why not, seeing that
she met him constantly where she was? Well, _that_ she could not help;
this would be voluntary; put ting herself in his way, and in his
sister's way. Better not, Lois said to herself. But why, better not? It
would surely be a pleasant gathering at Mrs. Burrage's, a pleasant
party; her parties always were pleasant, Mrs. Wishart said; there would
be none but the best sort of people there, good talking and good music;
Lois would have liked it. What if Mr. Dillwyn were there too? Must she
keep out of sight of him? Why should she keep out of sight of him? Lois
put the question sharply to her conscience. And she found that the
answer, if given truly, would be that she fancied Mr. Dillwyn liked her
sister's society better than her own. But what then? The blood began to
rush over Lois's cheeks and brow and to burn in her pulses. _Then_, it
must be that she herself liked _his_ society--liked him--yes, a little
too well; else what harm in his preferring Madge? O, could it be? Lois
hid her face in her hands for a while, greatly disturbed; she was very
much afraid the case was even so.

But suppose it so; still, what of it? What did it signify, whom Mr.
Dillwyn liked? to Lois he could never be anything. Only a pleasant
acquain'tance. He and she were in two different lines of life, lines
that never cross. Her promise was passed to her grandmother; she could
never marry a man who was not a Christian. Happily Mr. Dillwyn did not
want to marry her; no such question was coming up for decision. Then
what was it to her if he liked Madge? Something, because it was not
liking that would end in anything; it was impossible a man in his
position and circumstances should choose for a wife one in hers. If he
could make such a choice, it would be Madge's duty, as much as it would
be her own, to refuse him. Would Madge refuse? Lois believed not.
Indeed, she thought no one could refuse him, that had not unconquerable
reasons of conscience; and Madge, she knew, did not share those which
were so strong in her own mind. Ought Madge to share them? Was it
indeed an absolute command that justified and necessitated the promise
made to her grandmother? or was it a less stringent thing, that might
possibly be passed over by one not so bound? Lois's mind was in a
turmoil of thoughts most unusual, and most foreign to her nature and
habit; thoughts seemed to go round in a whirl. And in the midst of the
whirl there wou