“I do indeed,” she replied, “and if I were in your place I should soon put it to the proof by offering her my hand and heart.”
He seemed lost in thought for a moment, then heaving a sigh, “Ah, if I were only sure,” he said—“sure of not, by so doing, losing the place I can see that I have already won in her heart—the friendship—it may not, after all, be anything more than that—I should not for a moment hesitate to make the offer you recommend; for I feel confident that with mutual love we might be exceptionally happy despite the difference in our years.”
“No doubt of it,” she returned, “and I hope that before you leave us you will put it to the proof; because I think it will be for both your happiness and hers.”
“Thank you very much for both your sympathy and advice, dear cousin,” he said. “I shall do so to-morrow if opportunity offers, as is likely to be the case, seeing we are so frequently alone together as patient and physician. Then if I find she does not and cannot love me in the way I wish, I shall trouble her no longer with my presence, but speedily set off for home and its duties.”
“But even in that case you need not entirely despair,” his cousin said with a bright, sweet look up into his rather anxious and troubled face, “for she is but young, and clever courting may win her heart in time. You are such a dear fellow, Art, so kind-hearted, generous, sympathetic, so unselfish and helpful, that you seem to me to deserve every good thing in life.”
“Oh, Cousin Elsie, such extravagant praise mortifies me, because I must acknowledge to myself that it is so far beyond my deserts,” he returned, blushing like a girl.
“It need not,” she said. “There is an old saying that every one—every deserving one at least—eats white bread at some time in his or her life. You have had a hard life so far, but I hope your time for white bread is now close at hand.”
He laughed a little at that. “Yes,” he said, “Cal and I have worked very hard for years past, and times do grow easier with us, but whether I shall ever get so far with the white bread as to win the dear young wife I covet, I do not know.”
“Well, you have my best wishes,” she returned, “and I shall do what I can to help the prosperity of your suit by sounding your praises in the ears of your lady-love. Ah, do not look alarmed, but trust me to say only enough to interest her, not so much as to weary her of the subject.”
“Thank you, dear cousin, I know I can trust you fully. And will you not help me with your prayers that I may, if it be God’s will, succeed in winning her heart completely?”