"I am at your service, Mrs. Landreth," Mildred said, closing her sketch-book, recalling as she did so her companion's formerly expressed opinion that such employment was a sinful waste of time, and anticipating a lecture on that subject.
However, the good woman's thoughts were, at that moment, too full of a more important theme to allow her to so much as notice with what the young girl had busied herself.
"My dear," she began, "I have a strong liking and high respect for you; because you seem to me sincerely desirous to do right and live in a Christian way, according to your light. You are gayer, of course, in your dress than I can think quite consistent; but we don't all see alike; and I should be rejoiced to receive you into the family if that might be without the danger to you—spiritually—which it involves."
Mildred rose, her cheeks burning, her eyes flashing.
"When I have shown my desire to enter your family, Mrs. Landreth, it will be time enough to—"
"Ah, my dear, my dear, you quite misunderstand me," interrupted the older lady. "Except for your own sake and your duty as a Christian to marry only in the Lord, I should be delighted. And I've never felt at all sure that Charlie could get you; but I see plainly that he wants you; and so it seemed my duty to warn you not to take him."
Mildred was very angry. Drawing herself up to her full height, and speaking with hauteur, "Excuse me, madam," she said, "if I venture to remind you that unasked advice is seldom acceptable; and if I add that it is especially unpalatable when it involves the meddling with matters too delicate for even the most intimate friend to allude to uninvited."
"What a temper! I begin to think you are none too good for him after all," grimly commented Mrs. Landreth, rising in her turn. "Good-morning, miss," and she stalked away down the hill, while Mildred dropped upon the grass, and hiding her face in her hands, indulged in a hearty cry.
It was a mixture of emotions that brought the tears in those plentiful showers; anger burned still in her breast, yet at the same time she was bitterly remorseful on account of it, sorry and ashamed that she had so disgraced her Christian profession; bringing reproach upon the Master's cause; and—ah, what meant the pang that meddling woman's words had caused? could it be the fear that duty called her to resign that which had become very dear to her heart? Alas, yes! it cried out with a yearning, passionate cry for this love that she must reject, if, indeed, it was offered her.
Did he, indeed, love her? Oh, what joy! what bliss! But, oh, the bitter anguish if she must put that cup of joy aside untasted! How could she? yet how dare she do otherwise? The Bible did speak of marrying only in the Lord; it did say, "Be ye not unequally yoked together with unbelievers."