mystery. The sickening thought came to me that perhaps he wanted to marry one of my sisters, but waited to see which one should win the prize; then I cast the thought from me. I would not believe that he was so mercenary.
Our year of probation was almost over; only two more days remained. We held a family conclave that morning, and agreed that we might as well abandon the search. That we might break the will did not occur to us; besides, we recognized Aunt Ellen's right to do as she pleased with her own.
That evening Ellen Ann attended a meeting of the Shakespeare Club, and Caroline went to choir rehearsal. Mother kept her room with a nervous headache. (Heartless as it sounds, I shall never cease to be thankful that the poor dear was so ill that night.) I was idly drumming on the piano when who should come but Mr. Otis! I was intensely surprised to see him, but, of course, tried to be polite. I offered him a chair; then we said nothing for several minutes. When at last I looked up, there were those eyes gazing at me with that melancholy expression which I knew so well, and which seemed to read my very soul.
"You have not found the box yet, I suppose?" he asked.
That box again! Like the sting of a whip lash, it brought me to myself.
"Mr. Otis," said I, with great dignity, "to relieve your mind, I will say that we have not found the box, nor do we expect to find it. I, myself, have given up the search. Like Pandora's box, it is more trouble than it is worth."
But my chilling manner seemed only to make him glad. He came to the sofa and sit down beside me.
"Do you mean that, Molly?" he asked.
"Yes, Mr. Otis," I answered.
"Say 'Oliver,'" said he softly.
I said "Oliver"; his eyes blazed so that I dared not refuse.
Then he took my hand and held it; and out of respect to his mood I did not take it away. Which was quite improper, I know, but what can a girl do when a man acts that way?
"Molly," he again said very softly, "are you sure that you cannot find the box?"
