"It should have put you on your guard; for a woman like Mrs. Martindale, gossiping about as she does, night after night, with young folks, cannot, it seems to me, have the best ends in view."
"She seems to be a very well-disposed woman."
"That is true. And yet I have been several times persuaded that she was one of the detestable tribe of match-makers."
"Surely not."
"I am afraid that it is too true. And if it be so, Mary is in dangerous company."
"Indeed she is. From this time forth we must guard her more carefully. Of all things in the world, I dread an improper marriage for Mary. If she should throw away her affections upon an unworthy object, how sad would be her condition! Her gentle spirit, wounded in the tenderest part, would fail, and droop, and pine away in hopeless sorrow. Some women have a strength of character that enables them to rise superior, in a degree, to even such an affliction; but Mary could not bear it."
"I feel deeply the truth of what you say," replied Mr. Lester. "Her affections are ardent, and easily called out. We have been to blame in not thinking more seriously of this matter before."
"I wish she would come home! It is growing far too late for her to be absent," the mother said, in a voice of anxious concern.
Then succeeded a long and troubled silence, which continued until the clock struck eleven.
"Bless me! where can she be?" ejaculated Mr. Lester, rising and beginning to pace the floor with hurried steps.