"Well, I'm willing to hear that from you; and I have acknowledged it."
"In the first place," I continued, "it was entirely your imagination with regard to him. His manner, as far as I saw it, was uniformly respectful and tender, perhaps too openly the latter to suit my taste; but not the least bordering on undue confidence in your attachment. Indeed, I thought he did not sufficiently respect himself, and was too distrustful. Then I can't understand how you could love him, and yet give him such pain. You saw how very pale he looked."
"Oh, don't repeat it! I have thought of nothing else;" and the poor girl wept bitterly. Suddenly she looked up, as she heard the carriage, and trying to wipe away her tears, said quickly, "Not a word of all this for the world. I want you to take charge of a note from me, and send it to him."
"When shall you write it?"
"Some time next week," she answered, putting her finger on her lip, as she heard mother at the door.
I was glad to escape from the room; and ran down to take Pauline from papa. My head was all in a whirl. I am glad I did not promise secrecy, for I must tell Frank the first chance I get. He will know what to do.
Sabbath Evening, June 21st.
I remained at home with sister this morning, while mother went to church. It is a rainy day. I suppose we ought to be thankful, for the earth was very dry and dusty; but I do love a pleasant Sabbath. This afternoon I went with Frank to church, and from thence to the house of Mr. Lewis. Mr. Munroe and Deacon Jackson rode with us, and after the horse had been driven under a shed, we all proceeded to the sick room, the deacon carrying with him a basket containing the sacred elements.
One of the tenants of the house had opened her room opposite, for the convenience of the company; and I was surprised as I passed up the stairs to see that it was crowded with people; many of them, I suppose, members of the church who came in to unite in the ordinance.