to Clara, too, came to my aid, and rallying a little, I said:

"It is not long since you felt you could not live without the love of
Clara's heart; how strangely all your feelings must have changed. This
perplexes me, Mr. Benton."

He raised his head from his hands--he had been sitting some moments in a
despairing attitude, evidently struggling with great emotion--and
answered:

"It is natural that this should perplex you, and I am prepared for it.
Years of lonely waiting and yearning for the love of a true heart, have,
perhaps, made me seize too readily on any promise of hope and sympathy.
I was certainly fascinated with Mrs. Desmonde, and told her of my
feelings, prematurely as it proved, for the more I knew of her, the more
convinced I grew of her unfitness, I might almost say for earth,
although she still is beautiful to me. But you, Emily, are a woman of
strength and will, of a strength that will grow, for your years do not
yet number twenty-one; these years have already given you maturity and
power, and I respect and admire you, and I believe I could worship you
if you would let me."

This was stranger talk than I could endure, and I broke out
passionately:

"You need not ever try; I do not want you to, for I shall never love
you, and you are also old enough to be my father." I cannot tell why I
should have made this great mistake for which I immediately reproached
myself.

The lines in Mr. Benton's face grew a little sharper, and the gleam of
his eye for a second was like a fierce light, and he answered gravely:

"My years do number more, but in my heart I stand beside you. I would
have waited longer to tell you, but I am going away." I looked
wonderingly. "A friend is ill. I go to him; then to Chicago to see some
of our statuettes, and then if your parents will board me here, shall
return for the summer, unless," and his eyes dropped hopelessly, his
voice trembled, "unless," raising his eyes to mine appealingly, "I shall
be too unwelcome a friend to remain."

Dear Hal and his art rose before me, and pity and love caused me to say:

"Oh, come back, Mr. Benton! Hal needs you."

"We will consider then that we are friends, Emily?"

"Certainly," I said, glad enough to pass out of this door. Would it had
been wider!

Advancing to me he took my hand, and said:

"My friend always, if I may never hope for more. I leave to-morrow
morning, let us say good-bye here."

This was a strange scene for a plain c