y faith a paper with my
father's obligations, and say: 'Here is your fate; this is your whole
romance; you are foreclosed upon!' How are you to take a withered heart
like that and find glad companionship in it? No, you will be
disappointed. It will recoil upon me that I sold myself."

"The image you waited for may have come," said Milburn undauntedly,
"even in me; for love often springs from an ambush, nor can you prepare
the heart for it like a field. I recollect a fable I read of a god
loving a woman, and he burst upon her in a shower of gold; and what was
that but a rich man's wooing? We get gold to equalize nobility in women;
beauty is luxurious, and demands adornment and a rich setting; the
richest man in Princess Anne is not good enough for you, and the mere
boys your mind has been filled with are more unworthy of being your
husband than the humble creditor of your father. Such a creation as Miss
Vesta required a special sacrifice and success in the character of her
husband. The annual life of this peninsula could not match you, and a
monster had to be raised to carry you away."

"You are not exactly a monster," Vesta remarked, with natural
compassion, "and you compliment me so warmly that it relieves the strain
of this encounter a little. Do not draw a woman's attention to your
defects, as she might otherwise be charmed by your voice."

"That also is a part of my sacrifice," said Meshach, "like the money
which I have accumulated. Without a teacher, but love and hope, I have
educated myself to be fit to talk to you. It is all crude now, like a
crow that I have taught to speak, but encouragement will make me
confident and saucy, and you will forget my sable raiment--even my hat."

A chilliness seemed to attend this conclusion, and Vesta touched her
bell. Virgie, entering, took her mistress's instructions: "Bring a tray
and tea, and lights, and place Mr. Milburn's hat upon the rack!"

The girl glanced at the antique hat with a timid light in her eye, but
her mistress's head was turned as if to intimate that she must take it,
though it might be red-hot. Virgie obeyed, and soon brought in the tea.

"It is good tea," spoke Milburn, drinking not from the cup, but the
saucer, while Vesta observed him oddly, "and it is chill this evening.
Let me start your fire!"

He shivered a little as he stood up and walked across the room, and
poking the charred logs into a flame; and, setting on more wood, he made
the walls sp