growing self-existent soul that he purified and analyzed day by
day: a depth of tender pity for outer pain; a fierce longing for
rest, on something, in something, he cared not what. He stifled
such rebellious promptings,--called them morbid. He called it
morbid, too, the passion now that chilled his strong blood, and
wrung out these clammy drops on his forehead, at the mere thought
of this girl below.

He shut the door of his room tightly: he had no time to-day for
lounging visitors. For Holmes, quiet and steady, was sought for,
if not popular, even in the free-and-easy West; one of those men
who are unwillingly masters among men. Just and mild, always;
with a peculiar gift that made men talk their best thoughts to
him, knowing they would be understood; if any core of eternal
flint lay under the simple, truthful manner of the man, nobody
saw it.

He laid the bill of sale on the table; it was an altogether
practical matter on which he sat in judgment, but he was going to
do nothing rashly. A plain business document: he took Dr.
Knowles's share in the factory; the payments made with short
intervals; John Herne was to be his endorser: it needed only the
names to make it valid. Plain enough; no hint there of the tacit
understanding that the purchase-money was a wedding dowry; even
between Herne and himself it never was openly put into words. If
he did not marry Miss Herne, the mill was her father's; that of
course must be spoken of, arranged to-morrow. If he took it,
then? if he married her? Holmes had been poor, was miserably
poor yet, with the position and habits of a man, of refinement.
God knows it was not to gratify those tastes that he clutched at