t that now had come the time in which it would
be well that he should tell her of his engagement with his own Mary.
She had received him very playfully; but now within the last few
minutes there had come upon her a seriousness of gesture, and almost
a solemnity of tone, which made him conscious that he should in no
way trifle with her. She was so earnest in her friendship that he
owed it to her to tell her everything. But before he could think of
the words in which his tale should be told, she had gone on with her
quick questions. "Is it solely about money that you fear?" she said.

"It is simply that I have no income on which to live."

"Have I not offered you money?"

"But, Madame Goesler, you who offer it would yourself despise me if I
took it."

"No;--I do deny it." As she said this,--not loudly but with much
emphasis,--she came and stood before him where he was sitting. And as
he looked at her he could perceive that there was a strength about
her of which he had not been aware. She was stronger, larger, more
robust physically than he had hitherto conceived. "I do deny it," she
said. "Money is neither god nor devil, that it should make one noble
and another vile. It is an accident, and, if honestly possessed, may
pass from you to me, or from me to you, without a stain. You may
take my dinner from me if I give it you, my flowers, my friendship,
my,--my,--my everything, but my money! Explain to me the cause of the
phenomenon. If I give to you a thousand pounds, now this moment, and
you take it, you are base;--but if I leave it you in my will,--and
die,--you take it, and are not base. Explain to me the cause of
that."

"You have not said it quite all," said Phineas hoarsely.

"What have I left unsaid? If I have left anything unsaid, do you say
the rest."

"It is because you are a woman, and young, and beautiful, that no man
may take wealth from your hands."

"Oh, it is that!"

"It is that partly,"

"If I were a man you might take it, though I were young and beautiful
as the morning?"

"No;--presents of money are always bad. They stain and load the
spirit, and break the heart."

"And specially when given by a woman's hand?"

"It seems so to me. But I cannot argue of it. Do not let us talk of
it any more."

"Nor can I argue. I cannot argue, but I can be generous,--very
generous. I can deny myself for my friend,--can even lower myself in
my own esteem for my friend. I can do more than a man can do for