"'My dear,' he returned, gently--very gently; but there was pain and some strange solemn meaning in his face--'I disappointed you last night. You thought that I would not praise your finery or stoop to flatter your innocent vanity, that I held myself aloof from your girlish pleasure. Ah,' with a sudden change of tone, 'you little know what brilliant vision haunted me last night and drove sleep from my eyes; how it lured and tempted me from my sense of right; but God had mercy on His poor priest, and strengthened his hands in the day of battle.' "The white abstracted look of his face, the low vehemence of his tone, thrilled me almost painfully; never had Raby looked or spoken like that. "'No, my darling,' he went on, sorrowfully, 'I will never wrong the child I have guided and protected all these years, or take advantage of your youth and inexperience, by using my influence and condemning you to a life for which you are not fitted. Go forth into the world then, my Esther--did not Margaret compare you to Esther--make experience of its pleasures, its trials, its seductions, its false wooings, and its dazzling honors; if they tell you your beauty might win a coronet they would be right.' "'Raby!' "'Hush! let me finish; go into the world that claims you, but if it fail to please you--if it ever cast you away humbled and broken-hearted, then come back to me, my darling, come back to Raby; he will be praying for you here.' "Shall I ever forget his tone; my tears fell fast as I listened to him. "'What do you mean?' I sobbed; 'how have I offended you? Why do you propose to send me away from you?' "'Nay,' he said, quietly, 'I am only speaking for your good. You are young, Crystal, but you must be conscious, indeed your manner told me so last night, that you have grace, beauty, and talents, triple gifts that the world adores. You will be its idol. Make your own election, then, my child, for you are now a woman. I will never seek to influence you, I am only a humble priest. What has such a one to do with a ball-room queen; the world's ways have never been my ways, for from my youth I have determined that "for me and my house, we will serve the Lord."' "His calm steadfast voice awed me; every word seemed to rebuke my vanity and presumption. Ah, I saw it all now. Raby was disappointed with my choice; he had hoped--he had hoped otherwise. "We had reached the end of our walk by this time. Before us was the poor cottage where Lettie White was dying. I took my hand from Raby's arm and sat down on the little stone bench by the bee-hives. Raby seemed to linger a moment, as though he expected me to speak to him, but I remained silent, and he turned away with a quick sigh and went into the house. Soon after I heard his voice through the upper window, where the white curtains were flapping in the breeze, and Lettie's weak tones answering him.