What was this purpose? To win the regard, the esteem, the tenderness of a religious, exalted nature shrined in a beautiful form,—to gain and hold ascendency. It was a life-long habit,—one of those forms of refined self-indulgence which he pursued, thoughtless and reckless of consequences. He had found now the key-note of the character; it was a beautiful instrument, and he was well pleased to play on it.
"I think, Sir," said Mary, modestly, "that you forget the great provision made for our weakness."
"How?" he said.
"They that wait on the Lord shall renew their strength," she replied, gently.
He looked at her, as she spoke these words, with a pleased, artistic perception of the contrast between her worldly attire and the simple, religious earnestness of her words.
"She is entrancing!" he thought to himself,—"so altogether fresh and naive!"
"My sweet saint," he said, "such as you are the appointed guardians of us coarser beings. The prayers of souls given up to worldliness and ambition effect little. You must intercede for us. I am very orthodox, you see," he added, with that subtle smile which sometimes irradiated his features. "I am fully aware of all that your reverend doctor tells you of the worthlessness of unregenerate doings; and so, when I see angels walking below, I try to secure 'a friend at court.'"
He saw that Mary looked embarrassed and pained at this banter, and therefore added, with a delicate shading of earnestness,—
"In truth, my fair young friend, I hope you will sometimes pray for me. I am sure, if I have any chance of good, it will come in such a way."
"Indeed I will," said Mary, fervently,—her little heart full, tears in her eyes, her breath coming quick,—and she added, with a deepening color, "I am sure, Mr. Burr, that there should be a covenant blessing for you, if for any one, for you are the son of a holy ancestry."