Quick of apprehension, Bodine soon perceived a change in Mara's attitude toward him, but was considerate in availing himself of such slight encouragement as she gave. He had been taught by her manner that her first feeling on the discovery of a warmer regard than she had expected was that of repulsion. He now believed that she had thought the matter over, and was learning that it might not be impossible to regard him in a new and different light. Long since the ardor of youth had passed, and he was disposed to allow her time to become accustomed to the thought of wifehood. In the meantime he put forth every effort to prove himself companionable, in spite of their disparity in age. It was not his delicate and thoughtful attentions, however, which reconciled her to the future that she had accepted, but rather the motives already revealed. Under the influence of these, a certain species of mental excitement had been evoked. She had not ceased to suffer, but she had ceased merely to exist. There was something now to look forward to, sacred duties to anticipate, and a future which was not a blank. She believed that in giving help and happiness to another she would more surely trample on self, and make it the vantage-ground for a greater devotion than that of most women whose love is often partly self-love. In regarding her first pure love and all its promptings as the phase of self to be destroyed, she was committing her fatal error; and of this error, not only Clancy's words, but also her own heart, often warned her. But she was not one to turn back, having once resolved upon a course. She had far too much delicacy and maidenly pride to suggest consciously to Bodine the nature of her thoughts, but she was willing that he should see that she no longer shrank outwardly from his occasional manifestations of a tenderer regard than he bestowed upon Ella. That something in her woman's nature beyond her control did shrink and plead for escape, she knew well; but to conquer this instinctive aversion was a part of the task which she had set for herself. Not only quick-witted Ella, but also Mrs. Bodine and Mrs. Hunter, saw the drift of affairs, and gave their unhesitating approval. Mrs. Hunter was glad, because it would destroy Clancy's prospects forever, and prove a sort of triumph over him. Then it was, as she assured Mara one day, "eminently fitting. Your father and mother would both approve." "That thought comes to me, too," calmly rejoined the girl. "I hope they will--I think they will. But let us not talk further till all is settled." Mrs. Bodine believed the marriage would result well on other grounds. "Cousin Hugh," she said one day when they were alone, "you may shut me up if I am meddling, but you are not thinking of Mara in the same way that you did in the spring." "I admit it, Cousin Sophy, and you need not shut up."