t go and look about him;--and as
he thought of this he was forced to acknowledge to himself that he
regarded the delay as a reprieve. The sooner the better had been
Mary's view with him. Though he was loath enough to entertain the
idea of giving her up, he was obliged to confess that, like the
condemned man, he desired a long day. There was nothing happy before
him in the whole prospect of his life. Of course he loved Mary. He
loved her very dearly. He loved her so dearly, that to have her taken
from him would be to have his heart plucked asunder. So he swore to
himself;--and yet he was in doubt whether it would not be better that
his heart should be plucked asunder, than that she should be made to
live in accordance with those distasteful pictures which his uncle
had drawn for him. Of himself he would not think at all. Everything
must be bad for him. What happiness could a man expect who had been
misused, cheated, and mined by his own father? For himself it did not
much matter what became of him; but he began to doubt whether for
Mary's sake it would not be well that they should be separated. And
then Mary had thrust upon him the whole responsibility of a decision!

CHAPTER XXXI.

MARY LOWTHER FEELS HER WAY.

That afternoon there came down to the parsonage a note from Mary to
the Captain, asking her lover to meet her, and walk with her before
dinner. He met her, and they took their accustomed stroll along the
towing-path and into the fields. Mary had thought much of her aunt's
words before the note was written, and had a fixed purpose of her own
in view. It was true enough that though she loved this man with all
her heart and soul, so loved him that she could not look forward to
life apart from him without seeing that such life would be a great
blank, yet she was aware that she hardly knew him. We are apt to
suppose that love should follow personal acquaintance; and yet love
at third sight is probably as common as any love at all, and it takes
a great many sights before one human being can know another. Years
are wanted to make a friendship, but days suffice for men and women
to get married. Mary was, after a fashion, aware that she had been
too quick in giving away her heart, and that now, when the gift had
been made in full, it became her business to learn what sort of man
was he to whom she had given it. And it was not only his nature as
it affected her, but his nature as it affected himself that she
mus