memory. In Jamaica he had been an object of aversion to her, yet she
could give no definite reason for this deeply-rooted dislike. Every
one spoke so highly of him that she often blamed herself for not
feeling more kindly towards one who enjoyed the respect and esteem of
the whole community. His piety and temperate habits, his humility and
devotion to his work, were conspicuous even here. Of late, he had been
particularly friendly towards Carmen, which seemed a very natural
thing, he having been such an old friend of her father's. But his
increased kindness only awoke a greater dislike in the girl, so that
she tried in every way to escape an avowal from him of his feelings.
She did not consider her refusal to marry him a matter of much
importance, as she concluded his offer had arisen only from a desire to
transfer his friendship from the father to the daughter. His
unexpected outburst of passion alarmed her, although in her childish
innocence, she did not fully understand why she felt so deeply
insulted. The thought that he had given her a love which she could not
return made her fearful of hurting his feelings in some way beyond her
comprehension, and she endeavored to subdue her anger sufficiently to
answer him.

"Forgive me if I wound you, Brother Jonathan, but I cannot help it. I
do not love you as you desire, and I neither deserve nor wish that you
should have such a warm feeling for me."

"Carmen, you surely cannot mean what you say. I have taken you by
surprise. Calm yourself, and do not make this a final decision." He
attempted to approach her again, but the maiden shrank back from him in
terror.

"I cannot do otherwise," she said firmly. "Now let me, I pray, go on