your future views."

"To do just what you wish me to do."

"I have no right to advise, and no wish to persuade. I have my own path
of duty pointed out to me, and from that I can not swerve."

"And what is that?"

"It is that, under present circumstances, I must not think of leaving my
uncle and aunt. I have been bred up and educated by them; I have as an
orphan shared their prosperity; I have a deep debt of gratitude to pay,
and I can not consent to return to England to enjoy all the advantages
which your means will afford, while they remain in their present
isolated position. Hereafter circumstances may alter my opinion, but
such it is at present."

"But if I am willing to remain with you here to share your fortunes,
will not that satisfy you?"

"No, certainly not; for that would be allowing you to do injustice to
yourself. I presume you do not mean to quit your profession?"

"I had no such intention; but still, if I have to choose between you and
the service, I shall not hesitate."

"I trust you will not hesitate, but determine to adhere steadily to your
profession for the present, Captain Sinclair. It will not do for you to
give up your prospects and chance of advancement for even such a woman
as me," continued Mary, smiling; "nor must you think of becoming a
backwoodsman for a pale-faced girl."

"Then what am I to do if, as you say, you will not leave your uncle and
aunt?"

"Wait, Captain Sinclair; be satisfied that you have my affections, and
wait patiently till circumstances may occur which will enable me to
reward your affection without being guilty of ingratitude toward those
to whom I owe so much. On such terms I accept you willingly; but you
must do your duty to yourself, while I must discharge _my_ duty toward
my uncle and aunt."

"I believe you are right, Mary," replied Captain Sinclair; "only I do
not see any definite hope of our being united. Can you give me any
prospect to cheer me?"

"We are both very young, Captain Sinclair," observed Mary; "in a year or
two, my uncle and aunt may be less lonely and more comfortable than at
present. In a year or two the war may end, and you may honorably retire
upon half-pay; in fact, so many chances are there which are hidden from
us and come upon us so unexpectedly, that it is impossible to say what
may take place. And if, after waiting patiently for some time, none of
these chances do turn up, you have yet another in your favor."

"And what is that,