"It is pleasant, well come by. You might have it all, as Mr. Moray's wife, if at first you waited patiently."
Earle took new value in this ambitious girl's eyes.
Meanwhile, warned by the experience with Leslie, which might have turned out so differently, had Leslie played lover, and offered London-life to Doris, Earle resolved to press his suit, and urge early marriage. He must have some way of holding fast the fair coquette. To him the marriage tie was invulnerable. Once his wife, he fancied she would be ever true. Yes, once betrothed, he believed that she would be true as steel. So one fine September morning, when Leslie's picture was nearly finished, Earle came up to the farm, resolved to be silent no longer. He met Mattie first. He took her hand.
"Mattie, dear sister-friend, to-day I mean to ask Doris to be my wife. Wish me success."
Mattie's heart died within her, but the true eyes did not quail, as she said:
"I hope she will consent, for I know you love her. Heaven send you all good gifts."
"If she does not take me, my life will be spoiled!" cried Earle, passionately.
"Hush," said Mattie. "No man has a right to say such a word. No one should ever throw away all good that Heaven has given him, because of one good withheld."
"Does she love me? Tell me!"
"I do not know. There is no way but to ask her."