"Of course, must be!"
Mattie had a will of her own when it was needed. A little did not disturb her, but a great deal of opposition could never shake that will when once made up. She had resolved upon her next step, and would proceed with it; we do not say that she was in the right; we will not profess to constitute her a model heroine in the sight of our readers, who have had enough of model heroines for awhile, and may accept our stray for a change. We are even inclined to believe that Mattie was, in this instance, just a little in the wrong—but then her early training had been defective, and allowance must be made for it. All the evil seeds that neglect has sown in the soil are never entirely eradicated—ask the farmers of land, and the farmers of souls.
"Must be!" repeated Mr. Gray, looking in a dreamy manner at his daughter.
"I promised his father to think of him—to study him by all the means in my power. I see that no one understands him but me, and I hear that he is sinking away from all that made him good and noble. I will do my best for him, and there is no one who can stop me here."
"Your father!"
"—Is a new friend, who has been kind to me, and whom I love—but he hasn't the power to make me break my promise to the dead. That man is desolate, and heavily afflicted, and I will go to him!"
"Against MY wish?"
"Yes—against the wishes of all in the world—if they were uttered in opposition to me!" cried Mattie.
"Then," looking very firm and white, "you will choose between him and me. He will be a friend the more, and I a daughter the less."
"It cannot be helped."