He looked up and surveyed me from head to foot. I was dressed in white—my hair fell in loose curls to my shoulders. In a year I had passed from the girl into the woman. I was taller, my form more roundly developed. And as he gazed upon me, I was conscious that he was remarking the change which had taken place in my appearance, and that his look was one of ardent admiration.
"Do you think that I have fallen in love since last year?" he said slowly and with a meaning look.
I turned away from his gaze, and exclaimed—
"But you are moody, Ernest. Last year you were so hopeful—now so melancholy. You can, you will succeed in life."
"That I can meet with what the world calls success, I do not doubt," he replied: "There is the career of the popular preacher, armed with a white handkerchief and a velvet Gospel,—of the lawyer, growing rich with the rent paid to him by crime, and devoting all the powers of his immortal soul to prove that black is white and white is black—of the merchant, who sees only these words painted upon the face of God's universe, 'Buy cheap and sell dear,'—careers such as these, Frank, are before me, and I am free to choose, and doubt not but that I could succeed in any of them. But to achieve such success I would not spend, I do not say the labor of years—No,—I would not spend the thought of a single hour."
"But the life of a good Minister of the Gospel, Ernest, living in some quiet country town, dividing his time between his parishioners and his books, and dwelling in a home like the cottage yonder—what say you to such a life, Ernest?"
He raised his eyes, and again surveyed me earnestly—"Ambitious as I am, I would sacrifice every thought of ambition for a life such as you picture—but upon one condition,"—he paused—
"And that condition?" I said in a low voice.
"Ask your own heart," was his reply, uttered in a tremulous voice.
I felt my bosom heave,—was agitated, trembling I knew not why,—but I made no answer.