good and kind to us, and we shall always recollect you with
gratitude; but go away now, and never come back to cross our fatal
path!"

"Indeed, madam," said I, "I shall do no such thing. You urge it for
my own sake. I have no fear, so urged--nor wish, except to hear
more--all. I cannot have seen Mistress Lucy in all the intimacy of
this last fortnight, without acknowledging her goodness and
innocence; and without seeing--pardon me, madam--that for some reason
you are two very lonely women, in some mysterious sorrow and
distress. Now, though I am not powerful myself, yet I have friends
who are so wise and kind that they may be said to possess power.
Tell me some particulars. Why are you in grief--what is your secret-
-why are you here? I declare solemnly that nothing you have said has
daunted me in my wish to become Lucy's husband; nor will I shrink
from any difficulty that, as such an aspirant, I may have to
encounter. You say you are friendless--why cast away an honest
friend? I will tell you of people to whom you may write, and who
will answer any questions as to my character and prospects. I do not
shun inquiry."

She shook her head again. "You had better go away, sir. You know
nothing about us."

"I know your names," said I, "and I have heard you allude to the part
of the country from which you came, which I happen to know as a wild
and lonely place. There are so few people living in it that, if I
chose to go there, I could easily ascertain all about you; but I
would rather hear it from yourself." You see I wanted to pique her
into telling me something definite.