"Almost too much so, it seems to me, for a man," his companion said, though with nothing censorious in her manner. She merely expressed a sentiment without showing that it excited unkind feelings. "Or for a woman, either," was the quick response. "True. But if pleased with attentions, and even admiration may we not be excused?" "O, certainly. We may all be excused for our weaknesses; still they are weaknesses, after all." "And therefore should not be encouraged." "Certainly not. We should be governed by some higher end than the mere love of admiration--even admiration for good qualities." "I admit the truth of what you say, and yet, the state is one to which I have not yet attained." Walter Gray turned a look full of tender interest upon the maiden by his side, as she ceased speaking, and said in a tone that had in it much of tenderness, "You express, Miss Emory, but the feeling which every one has who truly desires the attainment of true excellence of character. We have not this excellence, naturally, but it is within the compass of effort. Like you, I have had to regret the weaknesses and deficiencies of my own character. But, in self-government, as in everything else, my motto is, Persevere to the end. The same motto, or the same rule of action, clothed in other words, perhaps, I trust--nay, I am sure, rules in your mind." For a few moments Jane did not reply. She feared to utter any form of words that would mislead. At length she said, modestly, "I try to subdue in me what is evil, or that which seems to me to act in opposition to good principles." Before Walter Gray, pleased with the answer, could frame in his mind a fitting reply, Charles Wilton, with Cara Linton on his arm, was thrown in front of them. "Has Walter been edifying you with one of the Psalms of David, Miss Emory?" said Wilton, gaily. "One would think so from his solemn face, and the demure, thoughtful expression of yours." Neither Walter nor his fair companion were what is called quick-witted; and both were so checked in their thoughts and feelings that neither could, on the moment, fitly reply. "O, I see how it is," the gay young man continued. "He has been reading you some of his moral homilies, and you are tired to death. Well, you must bear with him, Miss Emory, he will learn better after awhile." And the young man and his thoughtless companion turned laughing away. For a few moments the disturbed thoughts of Walter and his fair friend, trembled upon the surface of their feelings, and then all was again as tranquil as the bosom of a quiet lake. Enough has now been said, to give a fair idea of the ends which the two young men, we have introduced, set before them upon entering life. Let us now proceed to trace the effects of these ends; effects, which, as a necessary consequence, involved others as much as themselves. CHAPTER II.