regarded her with an anxious face, and longed to say, "Forgive me, for
I have not been sincere!" At last, as her trouble grew, she resolved to
go away and have a quiet "think,"--a remedy which had served her in
many a lesser perplexity; so, stealing out, she went to a grove of
cedars usually deserted at that hour. But in ten minutes Joe
Leavenworth appeared at the door of the summer house, and, looking in,
said, with a well-acted start of pleasure and surprise,--

"Beg pardon, I thought there was no one here, My dear Miss Wilder, you
look contemplative; but I fancy it wouldn't do to ask the subject of
your meditations, would it?"

He paused with such an evident intention of remaining that Debby
resolved to make use of the moment, and ease her conscience of one care
that burdened it; therefore she answered his question with her usual
directness,--

"My meditations were partly about you."

Mr. Joe was guilty of the weakness of blushing violently and looking
immensely gratified; but his rapture was of short duration, for Debby
went on very earnestly,--

"I believe I am going to do what you may consider a very impertinent
thing; but I would rather be unmannerly than unjust to others or untrue
to my own sense of right. Mr. Leavenworth, if you were an older man, I
should not dare to say this to you; but I have brothers of my own, and,
remembering how many unkind things they do for want of thought, I
venture to remind you that a woman's heart is a perilous plaything, and
too tender to be used for a selfish purpose or an hour's pleasure. I
know this kind of amusement is not considered wrong; but it is wrong,
and I cannot shut my eyes to the fact, or sit silent while another
woman is allowed to deceive herself and wound the heart that trusts
her. Oh, if you love your own sisters, be generous, be just, and do not
destroy that poor girl's happiness, but go away before your sport
becomes a bitter pain to her!"

Joe Leavenworth had stood staring at Debby with a troubled countenance,
feeling as if all the misdemeanors of his life were about to be paraded
before him; but, as he listened to her plea, the womanly spirit that
prompted it appealed more loudly than her words, and in his really
generous heart he felt regret for what had never seemed a fault before.
Shallow as he was, nature was stronger than education, and he admired
and accepted what many a wiser, worldlier man would have resented with
anger or contempt. He lo