dare not think of her; I shall never again speak a word to her which her husband might not hear; but I cannot tear from me the dream of what she might be, the knowledge of what she is, false, hopeless, fatal, as it all may be!"
"Elwood," said Joseph, when they had walked a little distance in silence, "do you remember the night you spent with me, a year ago?"
"I'm not likely to forget it."
"Let me ask you one question, then. Have you come nearer to Lucy Henderson?"
"If no further off means nearer, and it almost seems so in my case,—yes!"
"And you see no difference in her,—no new features of character, which you did not guess, at first?"
"Indeed, I do!" Elwood emphatically answered. "To me she grows less and less like any other woman,—so right, so straightforward, so honest in all her ways and thoughts! If I am ever tempted to do anything—well, not exactly mean, you know, but such as a man might as well leave undone, I have only to say to myself: 'If you're not thoroughly good, my boy, you'll lose her!' and that does the business, right away. Why, Joseph, I'm proud of myself, that I mean to deserve her!"
"Ah!" A sigh, almost a groan, came from Joseph's lips. "What will you think of me?" he said. "I was about to repeat your own words,—to warn you to be cautious, and take time, and test your feelings, and not to be too sure of her perfection! What can a young man know about women? He can only discover the truth after marriage, and then—they are indifferent how it affects him—their fortunes are made!"
"I know," answered Elwood, turning his head away
