Alas, for thee, Rosa, that declaration proved too true!

CHAPTER XXVI.

MAKING UP HIS MIND.

For more than an hour there had been unbroken silence in the dingy old law office of Mr. Worthington, where Henry Lincoln and William Bender still remained, the one as a practising lawyer and junior partner of the firm, and the other as a student still, for he had not yet dared to offer himself for examination.  Study was something which Henry particularly disliked; and as his mother had trained him with the idea, that labor for him was wholly unnecessary, he had never bestowed a thought on the future, or made an exertion of any kind.

Now, however, a different phase of affairs was appearing.  His father’s fortune was threatened with ruin; and as, on a morning several weeks subsequent to Mrs. Russell’s party, he sat in the office with his heels upon the window sill, and his arms folded over his head, he debated the all-important question, whether it were better to marry Ella Campbell, for the money which would save him from poverty, or to rouse himself to action for the sake of Mary Howard, whom he really fancied he loved!

Frequently since the party had he met her, each time becoming more and more convinced of her superiority over the other young ladies of his acquaintance.  He was undoubtedly greatly assisted in this decision by the manner with which she was received by the fashionables of Boston, but aside from that, as far as he was capable of doing so, he liked her, and was now making up his mind whether to tell her so or not.

At last, breaking the silence, he exclaimed, “Hang me if I don’t believe she’s bewitched me, or else I’m in love.—­Bender, how does a chap feel when he’s in love?”

“Very foolish, judging from yourself,” returned William; and Henry replied, “I hope you mean nothing personal, for I’m bound to avenge my honor, and t’would be a deuced scrape for you and me to fight about ‘your sister,’ as you call her, for ’tis she who has inspired me, or made a fool of me, one or the other.”

“You’ve changed your mind, haven’t you?” asked William, a little sarcastically.

“Hanged if I have,” said Henry.  “I was interested in her years ago, when she was the ugliest little vixen a man ever looked upon, and that’s why I teazed her so,—­I don’t believe she’s handsome now, but she’s something, and that something has raised the mischief with me.  Come, Bender, you are better acquainted with her than I am, so tell me honestly if you think I’d better marry her.”

The expression of William’s face was a sufficient answer, and with something of his old insolence, Henry continued, “You needn’t feel jealous, for I tell you Mary Howard looks higher than you.  Why, she’d wear the crown of England, as a matter of course, any day.”