"I have," said Mr. Spangler, "an iron will; but that would not justify me in insisting if Miss Baily--" His voice trailed off; it rose before him--the far-off, bustling city, the office, the regular hours, the people whose toes must not be stepped upon, the letters to write and read, the papers to file, all the exact minutiae the position involved. And his comfortable old house? his leisure? his ease? And Mary Ann? Mary Ann would never consent to go so far! "I--I really--" he began. Dr. Lavendar frowned. "Mr. Spangler, I would not seem to urge you. Ellen is too dear to us for that. But if you appreciate her as I suppose you do--" "I do indeed!" broke in poor Augustus Spangler, fervently. "The way is probably open to you." "But--" said Mr. Spangler, and then broke out, with marked agitation; "I--I really don't see how I could possibly--" Yet even as he spoke he thought of Ellen's sweet eyes. "Good Heavens!" said Mr. Spangler, passionately; "what shall I do?" But Dr. Lavendar was silent. Mr. Spangler got up and began to walk about. "My affection and esteem," he said, almost weeping, "are unquestioned. But there are other considerations." Dr. Lavendar said nothing. "It is a cruel situation," said Mr. Spangler. Dr. Lavendar looked down at his pipe. There was a long silence. Augustus Spangler walked back and forth. Dr. Lavendar said never a word. "A man must consider his own fitness for such a position," Mr. Spangler said, pleadingly. "Perhaps," Dr. Lavendar observed, mildly, "Ellen's affections are not very deeply engaged? It will be better so." "But they are!" cried Mr. Spangler. "I assure you that they are! And I--I was so happy," said the poor man; and sniffed suddenly, and tried to find the pocket in his coat-tails. Dr. Lavendar looked at him out of the corner of his eye. Mr. Spangler stood stock-still; he opened and shut his hands, his lips were pressed hard together. He seemed almost in bodily pain, for a slight moisture stood out on his forehead. He was certainly in spiritual pain. The Ideal of Sacrifice was being born in Mr. Spangler's soul. His mild, kind, empty face grew almost noble; certainly it grew very solemn. "Dr. Lavendar," he said, in a low voice, "_I will do it._" Dr. Lavendar was instantly on his feet; there was a grip of the hand, and, for a moment, no words. "I'll telegraph Mr. Brown," said Mr. Spangler, breathlessly. "So will I!" said Dr. Lavendar. Mr. Spangler was scarlet with heroism. "It means giving up my house and my very congenial surroundings, and I fear Mary Ann will feel too old to accompany me; but with--with Ellen!" "She's worth six Mary Anns, whoever Mary Ann may be," said Dr. Lavendar. "You may have thought me hesitant," said Mr. Spangler, "but I felt that I must weigh the matter thoroughly." "Why, certainly, man. It was your duty to think what was best for Ellen."