Merry passed her hand wearily over her forehead. She could not understand why she did not at once protest against what she felt to be an unnatural suggestion. Still, the constancy of the lover, the sympathy which she had felt for Hamlen since their first meeting in Bermuda, and her own state of uncertainty combined in a confused way in the girl's mind. Huntington's face was before her as her mother spoke of Hamlen, his voice was in her ears, his words echoed in her heart: "I found the girl too late!" Mrs. Thatcher thought Merry's hesitation came from a consideration of the arguments just advanced, but what Huntington had said formed the greatest argument of all. This closed for her all hope of happiness coming as a direct response to the craving of her heart, and left her only the possibility of attaining it through the indirect means of giving happiness to some one else. "That is what he would do," she whispered; and the thought brought comfort. "Haven't you felt this?" Mrs. Thatcher repeated at length, to recall the girl to herself. "You have always seemed so much more at home with older men, and he must have appealed to you. He would respond so quickly to the sympathy you could give him." "Wouldn't it be wrong to marry a man you didn't love?" Merry asked quietly. "But you respect him, don't you, dear? And respect is the first step toward love. I wouldn't have you marry him unless that came, but there is plenty of time before the wedding need be considered." "I am very unhappy!" Merry exclaimed suddenly, with a little catch in her voice. "Unhappy, my dear!" Mrs. Thatcher cried with real sympathy, drawing the girl's head upon her shoulder. "Why should you be unhappy? Tell Mother." "I don't know, myself," Merry admitted, crying softly. "I've been unhappy ever so long. Now and then things have seemed to straighten out, but never for long at a time. Now I'm more unsettled than I have ever been, and I don't feel as if I could be much of a success in making any one else happy while I feel so miserable myself." "This may be just what you need to help you find yourself, my dear," Mrs. Thatcher answered, kissing her affectionately. "Oftentimes, when we are wretched ourselves, we find happiness in giving it to others. Don't promise me anything, dear child, except that you will think the matter over carefully, and be prepared to settle it wisely when the time comes. Let me say again, unless you decide for yourself that your life will be made richer and brighter by marrying Philip Hamlen, of course I should not wish you to consider it."