a little less good! May God
forgive me such a sinful wish! But I love her with an earthly love, and
would not have her an angel, lest she soar away and leave me. Still, if
I love her truly, ought I not to wish for her the highest holiness? For
what shall I wish? For what shall I pray? My mind is perplexed.

I think I will speak to her. She may not have understood my looks, my
actions. Yes, I must speak. My pride is gone. I will say: "Elinor, you
are all the world to me. I am very poor. But don't leave me alone."

* * * * *

_September 26._--This morning Frederic came up to me and clapped me on
the shoulder (just in the way he did when he asked me to stand up with
him), and said, in a low voice, "Walter, don't you like Elinor?"

The tears rushed to my eyes; I could not speak.

"Come," said he, "let us walk awhile together." And he took my arm in
his.

It was very early. We walked miles into the woods. I told him
everything.

When I had finished, he said: "Walter, marry Elinor. You must. She shall
not leave us. She loves you better than anybody on earth. I guessed it
before you went away; and while you were gone, I knew it. No matter
about means. You are the same to me as a brother. All the farm shall be
yours. My trade is enough for me. I have some money, too, that you can
borrow, and repay at your leisure. I should have spoken of this long
ago, if I had only known. Why did you keep so close? Ever since you came
back, Lucy and I have watched, and she felt so sure that I ventured to
speak. You must speak before it gets fixed in her mind that it is a
duty to go. For what she thinks she ought to do she will do, and always
would.

"And now," he went on in a lighter tone, for Frederic can never keep
serious long, "now that I have offered you my sister, I hope you won't
reject her. Lucy and I take so much comfort together, just think what a
houseful of happiness there will be when you and Elinor are married!"

"O Frederic," I said, as soon as I could speak, "you are too kind; but I
am afraid I am not worthy. Besides being poor, I am not a Christian, and
I have had but few advantages. And she--she is pure and lovely, and has
a mind that is well informed, and the manners of a lady."

"Well," said he, "you want to be good, don't you? and you want to get
learning?"

"Yes."

"And you love her with all your heart?"

"I do."

"Well. Now, Walter, I tell you what I think. If a man knows