"Don't let us get started on that," Marian protested. "You know how little patience I have with feminism in any form. I do wish we might discuss some subject in a normal way as other mothers and daughters do, Merry," she continued, softening. "I have your interests on my mind all the time, I want to help you to understand yourself and life, I love you so, dear child,--and yet, whenever we try to talk anything over, it always turns into an argument. What I have suggested to-day I have thought of for months, I have considered it from every standpoint before presenting it to you, but you give me no credit for that. Before you even know how you feel about it you are ready to dismiss it. I really think my efforts for your happiness are entitled to more consideration." "You think this would be for Mr. Hamlen's happiness too?" Merry asked soberly. "I am sure of it," Marian replied, seeming to see a sign of yielding in the girl's question. "Why hasn't he spoken to me himself?" Merry asked at length. "He will speak, of course; but to meet with another disappointment would undo all the advance he has made." "I can't think of Mr. Hamlen as a married man," Merry continued; "I can't believe that he would be happy under conditions changed from what they are now. If he could only go on living with Mr. Huntington--" "That is out of the question, of course," Mrs. Thatcher answered. "Mr. Huntington has accomplished a miracle in bringing him out of his old obsession, and if it were possible to surround him now with normal conditions there is no limit to the heights he might reach." "Has he told you that he cared for me?" "Not in so many words," her mother admitted; "that is scarcely to be expected. I understand him so much better than he does himself. He disparages his abilities, which is not a bad characteristic in a husband, and without some assurance of success I doubt if he would ever mention the subject to you. But you know what it would mean to him. I shall never urge you against your will, my dear," she repeated with real feeling,--"you know that without my telling you; but I do feel my own responsibility so keenly! He was a boy of such promise, as he is to-day a man of rare capabilities if the right one could only guide him in making use of his talents. Haven't you felt this yourself, my dear, when you have been with him?"