"You speak as the preachers and teachers preach and teach--in general terms. Be explicit; what would you have me to do, Miss Mayfield? Only indicate my work, and tell me how to set about the accomplishment of it, and never knight served liege lady as I will serve you!" Marian smiled. "How? Oh, you must make yourself a position from which to influence people! I do not know that I can advise you how; but you will find a way, as--were I a man, I should!" "Being a woman, you have done wonders!" "For a woman," said Marian, with a glance full of archness and merriment. "No, no; for any one, man or woman! But your method, Marian? I beg your pardon, Miss Mayfield," he added, with a blush of ingenuous embarrassment. "Nay, now," said the frank girl; "do call me Marian if that name springs more readily from your lips than the other. Almost all persons call me Marian, and I like it." A rush of pleasure thrilled all through his veins; he gave her words a meaning and a value for himself that they did not certainly possess; he forgot that the grace extended to him was extended to all--nay, that she had even said as much in the very words that gave it. He answered: "And if I do, fairest Marian, shall I, too, hear my own Christian name in music from your lips?" "Oh, I do not know," said the beautiful girl, laughing and blushing. "If it ever comes naturally, perhaps; certainly not now. Why, the venerable Colonel Thornton calls me 'Marian,' but it never comes to me to call him 'John!'" CHAPTER XIII. LOVE. This was but one of many such meetings, Thurston growing more and more infatuated each time, while Marian scarcely tried to hide the pleasure which his society gave her. One day when riding through the forest he met Marian returning from the village and on foot. She was radiant with health and beauty, and blushing and smiling with joy as she met him. A little basket hung upon her arm. To dismount and join her, to take the basket from her arm, and to look in her face and declare in broken exclamations his delight at seeing her, were the words and the work of an instant. "And whither away this morning, fairest Marian?" he inquired, when unrebuked he had pressed her hand to his lips, and drawn it through his arm. "I have been to the village, and am now going home," said the maiden. "It is a long walk through the forest." "Yes; but my pony has cast a shoe and lamed himself slightly, and I fear I shall have to dispense with his services for a few days." "Thank God!" fervently ejaculated Thurston to himself. "But it is beautiful weather, and I enjoy walking," said the young girl. "Marian--dearest Marian, will you let me attend you home? The walk is lonely, and it may not be quite safe for a fair woman to take it unattended." "I have no fear of interruption," said Marian.