told
me this I knew that every word was true, and I was utterly ashamed of
myself; and as soon as she left I sent you that note because I wanted
you to let me beg your pardon--which you may consider has been done. And
now please let me see your speaking-tube. I want you to explain it to
me; I want to know how it is made, and what is its object. For I know
very well that even if your inventions are not successful they always
have very good objects. Please forgive me, and let us sit on the sofa
and have a nice talk together such as we should have had last night.'

"My soul shouted with joy within me, and I said to myself: 'We shall
have the nice talk we should have had last night, but it shall be the
talk you wanted then, and not the one you ask for now.'

"'Now, then,' said she, when we had seated ourselves, 'let us go to work
to make experiments with your tube. I am so glad you do not feel about
it as I thought you would.'

"'I did not bring it,' I said.

"'Oh, what a pity!' interrupted Mary.

"'No,' said I; 'it is not a pity. It did not work as I expected it
would, and there is no use in talking any more about it. I placed great
hopes in it, and I had a particular reason for wanting to tell you all
about it.' Then I began and bravely told her all about it, that is, all
that justice and kindness would permit me to tell. In the conversation
which ensued, which was a very happy exchange of sentiment, it was
wonderful how that translatophone was put into the background.

"A great deal of what Mary said in answer to my passionate avowals
she had already said to me in Burmese. But the fact that those
straightforward, honest words, fresh from a true woman's heart, and
spoken only for the satisfaction of her own frank and impetuous nature,
had come to me before in plain English she did not imagine, nor did I
ever allow her to imagine. This secret of her soul I always regarded as
something that came to me in involuntary confidence, and I always
respected that confidence."

"Were you never sorry?" asked the Daughter of the House, when the Old
Professor ceased.

"No," he said thoughtfully; "I have never been sorry for what I did. I
had a very happy life with my Mary--a life far happier than any
wonder-exciting invention could have given me."

"Was it fair to the world to destroy an instrument that might have been
of great advantage to science?" ventured John Gayther, hesitatingly.

"It is not easy," said the Old Prof