r
past--and--and--my position, as the father of a large family, that you
would have consented to any wooing in the girl and boy fashion. You make
me wish, for once in my life--yes, very-heartily wish, that I had been
less direct, less candid," he added rather bitterly. "I thought"--here
Emily heard him call himself a fool--"I thought you would approve it."

"I do," she answered with a great sobbing sigh. Oh, there was nothing
more for her to say; she could not entreat him now to let her teach him
to love her. She felt, with a sinking heart, that if he took her words
for a refusal, and by no means a gentle one, it could not be wondered
at.

Presently he said, still looking amazed and pale, for he was utterly
unused to a woman's tears, and as much agitated now in a man's fashion
as she was in hers,

"If I have spoken earlier in your widowhood than you approve, and it
displeases you, I hope you will believe that I have always thought of
you as a wife to be admired above any that I ever knew."

"My husband loved me," she answered, drying her eyes, now almost calmly.
She could not say she was displeased on his account, and when she looked
up she saw that John Mortimer had his hat in his hand. Their interview
was nearly over.

"I cannot lose you as a friend," he said, and his voice faltered.

"Oh no; no, dear John."

"And my children are so fond of you."

"I love them; I always shall."

He looked at her for a moment, doubtful whether to hold out his hand.
"Forget this, Emily, and let things be as they have been heretofore
between us."

"Yes," she answered, and gave him her hand.

"Good-bye," he said, and stooped to kiss it, and was gone.

She stood quite still listening, and yet listening, till all possible
chance was over of catching any longer the sound of his steps. No more
tears; only a great aching emptiness. The unhoped-for chance had been
hers, and she had lost it knowingly. What else could she have done?

She scarcely knew how long she remained motionless. A world and a
lifetime of agitation, and thought, and passionate yearning seemed to
stand between her and that brief interview, before, casting her eyes on
the little velvet-covered table across which he had leaned to put it on
her hand, she saw the splendid ring; sunbeams had found it out, and were
playing on the diamond; he had forgotten it, and left it behind him, and
there was the case on the floor. It seemed to be almost a respite.

"We are to