In a thousand artless ways, Cora, despite the strange mystery which seemed to envelop her, won her way to the hearts of all who knew her. Goody Nurse, who was a frequent caller at the home of the widow Stevens, was loud in her praises of the maiden, who had budded into womanhood. Charles found her growing more shy, as she became more mature and more beautiful; but as she grew more reserved, her power over him became greater, until, though unconscious of it, she had made him her slave.
One day he met her in one of her short rambles about the wood near the house. Her eyes were on the ground, and her face was so sad that it seemed to touch his heart. He went toward her, and she started from her painful reverie and looked as if she would fly.
"Cora, it is I, are you afraid of me?" he asked.
"No."
Then he went to her side and asked:
"Why are you so sad to-day?"
"Do I seem sad?"
"You look it."
"It is because of the good pastor's hatred of me. You were not at Church last Lord's day?"
"No; I was in Boston."