"You should not have said this, Mr. Hendrickson!" she repeated, in a steadier voice. "It is too late, and only makes my task the harder—my burden heavier. But God helping me, I will walk forward in the right path, though my feet be lacerated at every step."
"Is it a right path, Miss Loring? I declare it to be the wrong path!" said Hendrickson.
"Let God and my own conscience judge!" was firmly answered. "And now, sir, leave me. Oh, leave me."
"And you are resolute?"
"I am! God being my helper, I will go forward in the path of duty. When I faint and fall by the way through weakness, the trial will end."
"Friends, wealth, social attractions—all that the world can give will be yours. But my way must be lonely—my heart desolate. I shall be"—
"Go, sir!" Miss Loring's voice was imperative, and there was a flash like indignation in her eyes. "Go sir!" she repeated. "This is unmanly!"
The last sentence stung Mr. Hendrickson, and he arose quickly. Miss Loring, who saw the effect of her words, threw up, with a woman's quick instinct, this further barrier between them—
"I marvel, sir, knowing, as you do, the sacred obligations under which I rest, that you should have dared utter language such as my ears have been compelled to hear this night! I take it as no compliment, sir."
The young man attempted to speak; but with a sternness of manner that sent a chill to his heart, she motioned him to be silent, and went on—