"I go for your sake, to give you that which will restore peace to your heart."
"But I hope to be so successful in my business that I can come again soon. I will ask Aunt Asbury to visit them, if you wish."
"It is not a case of poverty,—at least I think not. The mother—she seems very young—needs sympathy and counsel; she would only take it from one she loved."
He seemed to be urging a duty upon her, though he did not so intend it; and Marion grew excited, wondering whether she ought to write Dr. B— about Mary, and postpone her other business for another day.
"I wish I knew which was my duty: I have set my heart on something. I ought not to have delayed it so long. I have been forgetful of a sacred charge, and I wish to atone for it as soon as possible."
She gazed wistfully in his face, longing to give him a ray of the hope she felt almost sure was in store for him,—almost, not quite. "If, after all, I am wrong, and he is not the one, it would be inexcusable in me to excite hopes only to crush them."
"Miss Howard," he began, unable to endure the sight of her distress, which by turns suffused her cheeks and blanched them, "can you not trust me to decide for you?"
"In almost any other case but this, I could. It would be cruel to tell you now." She stood one moment, her hands tightly clasped, her eyes fixed on the carpet; then, with a sudden change, she looked smiling in his face as she said,—
"Give me the exact direction to your protégé's, and I'll go to-morrow morning. I can write this evening to Dr. B—."
"Uncle Asbury," inquired Marion later in the evening, and when no one but her uncle and aunt were present, "have you ever mentioned before Mr. Angus that I have any other income than what I earn from teaching?"