“Listen to me, dear!” as he would address a grieving child. “Sometime, when you are quite willing to talk freely to me of this awful ‘all,’ I will prove to you how chimerical it is. Until then, nothing you can say or do can shake my purpose of making you my wife, in God’s own good time. We were _made_ for one another, Hetty! I have known that this great while. I am positive I could convince you of it, if you would give me a chance.” She arose nervously, her hands chafing one another in an action that was like wringing them in impatience or anguish. “I must go, Mr. Gilchrist! It is wrong to allow you to say all this. Then, too, Hester will be uneasy and need me.” “Let me go with you and explain why you have outstayed your time,” March suggested, demurely. “We could not have a more sympathetic confidante than Hester. And I must tell somebody.” She looked frightened. “There is nothing to tell! There never can be. Cannot you see? haven’t I convinced you of this?” “Not in the least. Until you can lay your hand upon your heart—the heart you and I know to be so true to itself and to others—and say, with the lips that cannot frame a lie—‘March Gilchrist, I can never love you in _any_ circumstances!’ I shall not see this other ‘never’ _you_ articulate so fiercely. If you want to get rid of me instantly, and for all time, look at me and say it now—_Hetty!_” His lingering enunciation of the name she had never thought beautiful before, would of itself have deprived her of the power to obey. She stood dumb, with drooping head and cheeks burning red as the sunset, her figure half turned away, a lovely study of maiden confusion, had the spectator been cool enough to note artistic effects. Chivalric compassion restrained all indication of the triumph a lover must feel in such a position. “I will not detain you, if you must go in,” he said, in a voice that was gentlest music to her ear. “Forgive me for keeping you so long. I know how conscientious you are, and how necessary you are to Hester. We understand one another. I will be very patient, dear, and considerate of those whose claims are older than mine. But there is one relation that outranks all others in the sight of God and man. That relation you hold to me. Don’t interrupt me, love! Nothing can alter the fact. Give me those!” as she stooped blindly for shawl and cushion. “It is my duty to relieve you of all burdens which you will permit me to carry for you. You would rather not have me go to the house with you?” interpreting her gesture and look. “Only to the gate, then? You see how reasonable I can be when possibilities are demanded.” He made a remark upon the agreeable change in the weather within the last twenty-four hours, and upon the sweet repose of the Sabbath after the tumult of the National holiday, as they walked on, side by side. At the gate he stayed her with his frank, pleasant laugh.