Mournfully Mary regarded her beautiful cousin.

“Florry, if you conceal nothing now, he will esteem you more than ever for hazarding his love in the cause of truth.  If, in after years, he discovers the past, he will tell you that, silently at least, you deceived him, and reproach you with want of candor and firmness.  Oh! there is a fearful risk to run; he will never place confidence in you again—­be warned in time.”

The entrance of Aunt Lizzy and Mrs. Carlton prevented further conversation, and unclasping Mary’s fingers, Florence disengaged her hand and left the room.

Two days passed in furnishing and arranging their new home, and Mary saw but little of her cousin.  As evening closed in again, the invalid watched from her couch the countenance of Mr. Stewart, as he sat earnestly conversing with her aunt.  Florence and Mr. and Mrs. Carlton were out making some necessary purchases, and Dr. Bryant had been absent on business of his own since morning.

“Florence is too young to marry, or even dream of it, at present, Mr. Stewart; and besides, if I must be candid, I have always entertained different views for her.”

“Pardon me, but I believe I scarcely comprehend your meaning.  You speak of other views for her; may I venture to ask the nature of these?”

“I have never expected her to marry at all, Mr. Stewart.”

“And why not, pray?  What can you urge in favor of your wishes?”

“I had her own words to that effect, scarce a month ago.”

A proud, happy smile played round his lips, and he replied:  “She may have thought so then, but I think her views have changed.”

“But for Mary, she would have been the same;” and a bitter look passed over her wrinkled face.

“Excuse me, if I ask an explanation of your enigmatical language; there is some hidden meaning, I well know.”

“Mr. Stewart, your mother and I are old friends, and I wish you well; but all good Catholics love their church above every earthly thing.  I should like to see Florence happy, but her eternal good should first be secured; you are a Protestant, and bitterly opposed to our Holy Church, and I cannot consent to see her marry a heretic, for such you are:  she is too far astray already.”

“If your niece were herself a Papist, your reason would indeed be a cogent one; but, under existing circumstances, I am puzzled to understand you.”

“Were it not for Mary’s influence, Florence would even now rest in the bosom of our Holy Church.  She has done her cousin a grievous wrong; may God and the blessed Virgin forgive her!”

Mary groaned in spirit, as she marked the stern glance of his eagle eye, and feebly raising herself, she said:  “Mr. Stewart, will you take this seat beside the sofa?  I wish to speak with you.”

Aunt Lizzy left the room hurriedly, as though she had already said too much, and silently he complied with Mary’s request.