, Marion; and what has he said?"

"What he said it is hardly for me to tell you. What I said,--I would
you could know it all without my repeating a word of it."

"Has he gone away contented?"

"Nay, not that, father. I hardly expected that. I hardly hoped for
that. Had he been quite contented perhaps I might not have been so."

"Why should you not have both been made happy?" asked the father.

"It may be that we shall be so. It may be that he shall understand."

"Thou hast not taken his offer then?"

"Oh, no! No, father, no. I can never accept his offer. If that be in
your mind put it forth. You shall never see your Marion the wife of
any man, whether of that young lord or of another more fitted to her.
No one ever shall be allowed to speak to me as he has spoken."

"Why dost thou make thyself different from other girls?" he said,
angrily.

"Oh, father, father!"

"It is romance and false sentiment, than which nothing is more odious
to me. There is no reason why thou shouldst be different from others.
The Lord has not marked thee out as different from other girls,
either in His pleasure or His displeasure. It is wrong for thee to
think it of thyself." She looked up piteously into his face, but said
not a word. "It is thy duty to take thyself from His hands as He has
made thee; and to give way to no vain ecstatic terrors. If, as I
gather from thy words, this young man be dear to thee, and if, as I
gather from this second coming of his, thou art dear to him, then I
as thy father tell thee that thy duty calls thee to him. It is not
that he is a lord."

"Oh, no, father."

"It is not, I say, that he is a lord, or that he is rich, or that he
is comely to the eyes, that I would have thee go to him as his wife.
It is because thou and he love each other, as it is the ordinance
of the Lord Almighty that men and women should do. Marriage is
honourable, and I, thy father, would fain see thee married. I believe
the young man to be good and true. I could give thee to him, lord
though he be, with a trusting heart, and think that in so disposing
of my child I had done well for her. Think of this, Marion, if it be
not already too late." All this he had said standing, so that he was
able to leave the room without the ceremony of rising from his chair.
Without giving her a moment for reply, having his hand on the lock
of the door as he uttered the last words of his counsel to her, he
marched off, leaving her alone.

It may