——
CHAPTER III.
“The lips that breathe the burning vow
By falsehood base unstained must be;
The heart to which mine own shall bow,
Must worship Honor more than me!”
—Mrs. Osgood.
The next morning found Emily and her father in the atelier of Edgar Loring. The artist was not in, but the boy in attendance, to whom they were well known, brought forward at Emily’s request the portrait she had so much admired a few days previous. It was fortunate that Edgar was not present, for Emily, unpracticed at concealment, found it impossible not to betray emotion when the picture first met her eye, bringing up at the same moment the joy and the falsehood of the hour when she saw it first. But speedily she regained her composure, and the artist soon entered the room. He looked proud and pleased to see them there, and prouder yet, when he saw how they were engaged.
“You will pardon the liberty we have taken in examining your very beautiful picture in your absence,” said Mr. Hastings, “but my Emily has a very earnest desire to possess it, and now that I have seen it, I should be only too happy to gratify her; is it for sale?”
Edgar’s vanity was flattered, his hopes encouraged, his love strengthened by this mark of preference, and; after a short silence, during which countless thoughts; hurried through his brain, he replied —