nce, or
ought to influence, one in such a question as this!"

Mrs Drew paused for a moment. She knew that her daughter gave
expression to the views that had marked the dealings of the husband and
father, so lately lost to them, in every action of his life. Marion's
happiness, too, during the remainder of her days, might be involved in
the result of the present conversation, and she was moved to say--

"My dear, has John Miles ever spoken to you?"

"Oh! mother, how can you ask me? If he had done so, would I have
delayed one minute in letting you know?"

"Forgive me, dearest. I did you wrong in admitting the thought even for
a moment. But you spoke so earnestly--as if you might have some reason
for thinking that he cared for you."

"Don't you know," answered Marion, looking down, and a little confused,
"that men can speak with their eyes as well as their lips? I not only
feel sure that he cares for me, but I feel sure, from the sentiments he
expressed to me on the voyage, that _nothing_ would induce him to talk
to me of love while in his present position."

"How does all this consist, my love," asked Mrs Drew, "with your
knowledge of the fact that he left home in anger, and would not be
persuaded, even by your dear father, to write home a penitent letter?"

Marion was silent. This had not occurred to her before. But love is
not to be turned from its object by trifles. She was all that we have
more than once described her to be; but she was not a meta-physician or
a philosopher, capable of comprehending and explaining occult mysteries.
Enough for her if she loved Miles and Miles loved her, and then, even
if he did not deserve her love, she would remain true--secretly but
unalterably true--to him as the needle is to the pole!

"Has it not occurred to you, dear," said her mother, pursuing her
advantage in a meditative tone, "that if Miles has been so plain-spoken
and eloquent with his blue eye, that your pretty brown ones may have
said something to _him_?"

"Never!" exclaimed the girl, with an indignant flash. "Oh! mother, can
you believe me capable of--of--no, I never looked at him except with the
air of a perfect stranger--at least of a--a--but why should I try to
deny what could not possibly be true?"

Mrs Drew felt that nothing was to be gained from pursuing the subject--
or one aspect of it--further.

"At any rate," she said, "I am glad, for his own sake, poor young
fellow, that Sergeant Hardy spo