"Partial! Why, I love the very air you breathe. When I am near you, everything smells sweet. There isn't anything that belongs to you but I think I should know it, though I found it a hundred miles away. To have you in the room with me would be like heaven,—if I only knew that you were thinking kindly of me."
"I always think kindly of you, Larry."
"Then say that you will be my wife." She paused, and became red up to the roots of her hair. She seated herself on a chair, and then rose again,—and again sat down. The struggle was going on within her, and he perceived something of the truth. "Say the word once, Mary;—say it but once." And as he prayed to her he came forward and went down upon his knees.
"I cannot do it," she replied at last, speaking very hoarsely, not looking at him, not even addressing herself to him.
"Mary!"
"Larry, I cannot do it. I have tried, but I cannot do it. O Larry, dear Larry, do not ask me again. Larry, I have no heart to give. Another man has it all."
"Is it so?" She bowed her head in token of assent. "Is it that young parson?" exclaimed Larry, in anger.
"It is not. But, Larry, you must ask no questions now. I have told you my secret that all this might be set at rest. But if you are generous, as I know you are, you will keep my secret, and will ask no questions. And, Larry, if you are unhappy, so am I. If your heart is sore, so is mine. He knows nothing of my love, and cares nothing for me."
"Then throw him aside."
She smiled and shook her head. "Do you think I would not if I could? Why do you not throw me aside?"