Merry nodded her head in affirmation. A sudden suspicion came into Huntington's mind, and he looked at the girl curiously.
"Has your mother been talking to you upon this subject?" he demanded with more directness than he had a right to use.
"Why, no," she answered, showing her surprise. "She thinks me too indifferent to men; but we have never discussed the matter seriously because there has been no occasion."
Huntington was relieved by her words but her ideas were not reassuring. He started to tell her that she was entirely wrong, but he checked himself because he realized that differing with people had now come to be a habit with him. Two days before he had carefully explained to Hamlen how erroneous his convictions were only to discover that he himself had been in error. Yesterday he had differed with Mrs. Thatcher, and now he found his ideas at variance with Merry's. Instead, he lifted the girl's left hand, which rested on the grass beside him, and gently pointing to the third finger he looked earnestly into her deep eyes.
"Merry," he said calling her by her name for the first time, "when the moment comes for some man to slip a gold band on there I want you to remember what I tell you now. You have pictured me as an apostle of optimism and as the happiest person you know. I could tell you something about that, but instead I'll try to live up to your picture. But this much is gospel truth, and I want you to remember it: that gold band will stand as a symbol and the circle means completeness. It doesn't stand for sacrifice, or for supreme tests, or for anything of that sort,—it does stand for just what you saw in your 'vision.' A very wise person once said that marriage was either a complete union or a complete isolation, and he was right. My friends think me a cynic on this subject, but my cynicism is a result of the complete isolation I see every day in the lives of my friends. I want your marriage to be a complete union, little girl, and that can't come if you apply your present ideas to a sacrament so sacred that every-day principles become meaningless. Marriage is the merging of all that is beautiful in two lives, and unless the love on each side strives to outdo the other in contributing to the joint account, the beauty fades, and the gold circlet stands as a symbol of slavery instead of representing the most wonderful relation which mortals are permitted to enjoy."
"Mr. Huntington!" she exclaimed in a low tone, "I had no idea you looked upon marriage like that! I didn't believe any man did! It makes me have more faith in my vision. Still, after all, that doesn't change the fact itself, for you are the exception. But, feeling as you do, I know now that the only reason you are not married is that you have never found the girl."
Huntington looked full into her face before he turned his head aside. "I did find the girl," he answered with a depth of feeling in his voice; "but I found her too late."
"Forgive me!" Merry cried impulsively, convinced that she had torn open a concealed wound.
"There is nothing to forgive, dear child," he said quickly. Then with that smile which took the world in its embrace he added, "Don't waste your sympathy on me; life has already given me more than I deserve."
"I am so sorry," Merry replied soberly. "She must have been a wonderful girl to win such a love."