there was something like an
arch smile playing upon her lips and in her light lively eyes. But when
she noted how real was his anxiety--how deeply and keenly he felt his
own doubt--she felt that the little jest which occurred to her fancy,
would be unseemly and unreasonable. So, she answered promptly, but
quietly--

"Pshaw, Ralph, how can you afflict yourself with, any such notions? I
have no doubt of the perfect propriety of your conduct; and I will
venture to say that Miss Munro entertains no reproaches."

"Yet, feeling so grateful to her, Edith--and when I first came here,
lonely, wounded and suffering every way--feeling so much the want of
sympathy--I may have shown to her--almost the only being with whom I
could sympathize--I may have shown to her a greater degree of interest,
than--"

"My dear Ralph, you are certainly one of the most modest young men of
the present generation; that is, if you do not deceive yourself now, in
your conjectures touching the state of Miss Munro's affections. After
all, it may be a sudden illness from exhaustion, excitement,
terror--which you have undertaken to account for by supposing her
desperately in love."

"Heaven grant it be so," answered Ralph.

"Well, whether so or not, do not distress yourself. I will answer for
it, you are not to blame. And here, let me whisper a little secret in
your ears. However forbidden by all the wise, solemn, staid regulations
of good society, there are young women--very few I grant you--who will,
without the slightest call for it, or provocation, suffer their little
hearts to go out of their own keeping--who will--I am ashamed to confess
it--positively suffer themselves to love even where the case is
hopeless--where no encouragement is given to them--where they can have
no rights at all, and where they can only sigh, and mourn, and envy the
better fortunes of other people. I have no doubt that Miss Munro is one
of these very unsophisticated persons; and that you have been all the
while, and only the innocent cause of all her troubles. I acquit you of
_lese majeste_, Ralph, so put off your doleful faces."

"Don't speak so carelessly of the matter, Edith. We owe this dear girl a
heavy debt--I do, at least."

"And we shall try and pay it, Ralph. But you must leave this matter to
me. I will go and see Lucy."

"But she refuses to see you."

"I will not be refused. I _will_ see her, and she _shall_ see me, and I
trust we shall succeed in taking