Molly's sad affliction called forth, from the first, his deepest commiseration; her brave endurance of it, her uniform cheerfulness under it, his strong admiration and respect. Yet he presently discovered that Isadore Conly had stronger attractions for him than any other woman he had ever met. It was not her beauty alone, her refinement, her many accomplishments, but principally her noble qualities of mind and heart, gradually opening themselves to his view as day after day they met in the unrestrained familiar intercourse of the home circle, or walked or rode out together, sometimes in the company of others, sometimes alone. Mr. Embury made good use of the permission Mrs. Travilla had granted him, and occasionally forestalling Cyril's attentions, led the latter to look upon him as a rival. Molly watched it all, and though now one and now the other devoted an hour to her, sitting by her side in the house doing his best to entertain her with conversation, or pushing her wheeled chair about the walks in the beautiful grounds, or taking her out for a drive, thought both were in pursuit of Isa. It was their pleasure to wait upon Isa, Elsie and Vi, while pity and benevolence alone led them to bestow some time and effort upon herself--a poor cripple whom no one could really enjoy taking about. She had but a modest opinion of her own attractions, and would have been surprised to learn how greatly she was really admired by both gentlemen, for her good sense, her talent, energy and perseverance in her chosen line of work, and her constant cheerfulness; how brilliant and entertaining they often found her talk, pronouncing it "bright, sparkling, witty;" how attractive her intellectual countenance, and her bright, dark, expressive eyes. CHAPTER XIV. "Something the heart must have to cherish, Must love and joy, and sorrow learn; Something with passion clasp or perish, And in itself to ashes burn." --_Longfellow._ "Molly, how you do work! a great deal too hard, I am sure," said the younger Elsie, coming into her cousin's room, to find her at her writing desk, pen in hand, as usual, an unfinished manuscript before her, and books and papers scattered about. Molly looked up with a forced smile: she was not in mirthful mood. "It is because I am so slow that I must keep at it or I get nothing done." "Well, there's no need," said Elsie, "and really, Molly dear, I do believe you would gain time by resting more and oftener than you do. Who can work fast and well when brain and body are both weary? I have come to ask if you will take a drive with our two grandpas, grandma and Mrs. Carrington?" "Thank you kindly, but I can't spare the time to-day." "But don't you think you ought? Your health is of more importance than that manuscript. I am sure, Molly, you need the rest. I have noticed that you are growing thin and pale of late, and look tired almost all the time."