"Oh, it was diffidence, Millie. He would have no motive in hiding
the truth from us. I can see that he is both fascinated by you and
afraid of you--poor fellow!"

"A few weeks in the cornfield and a few smiles from the girls
hereabouts will banish all his nonsense concerning me. I don't give
him a thought except that his absurd feelings annoy me. Oh, mamma,
you understand me. What he would like to offer is such a grotesque
parody on that which I hoped for, on what I imagined I possessed,
that it makes me sick. Oh, oh!" she sobbed, "I must give it all
up. Mr. Arnold acts as if I were dead: and practically I am to him,
although he may sigh and mope a little, perhaps. There, I'm wronging
him; I know I wrong him. How can I forget his white, deathlike face
and look of mortal pain. Oh that he had this young fellow's muscle
and courage! I do not care for his money; I would be content with
him in one bare room. But as it is I fear, I fear;" and the poor
child buried her face in her mother's lap, and cried away some of
her weight of foreboding.

"Millie, darling," faltered her mother, "God knows I'd shield your
heart with my own if I could, but I don't know how to help you.
You are too much like me. Your love is your life, and you can't
stop loving just because it would be wise and thrifty to do so.
I think of you almost as much as I do of Martin, and I daily pray
the merciful Saviour, who was 'tempted in all points like as we
are,' to sustain and comfort you. I don't see how I can help you
in any other way, for my own heart shows me just how you suffer."

"There, little mother," said Mildred, raising her head and wiping