“Beg pardon, I thought there was no one here.  My dear Miss Wilder, you look contemplative; but I fancy it wouldn’t do to ask the subject of your meditations, would it?”

He paused with such an evident intention of remaining that Debby resolved to make use of the moment, and ease her conscience of one care that burdened it; therefore she answered his question with her usual directness,—­

“My meditations were partly about you.”

Mr. Joe was guilty of the weakness of blushing violently and looking immensely gratified; but his rapture was of short duration, for Debby went on very earnestly,—­

“I believe I am going to do what you may consider a very impertinent thing; but I would rather be unmannerly than unjust to others or untrue to my own sense of right.  Mr. Leavenworth, if you were an older man, I should not dare to say this to you; but I have brothers of my own, and, remembering how many unkind things they do for want of thought, I venture to remind you that a woman’s heart is a perilous plaything, and too tender to be used for a selfish purpose or an hour’s pleasure.  I know this kind of amusement is not considered wrong; but it is wrong, and I cannot shut my eyes to the fact, or sit silent while another woman is allowed to deceive herself and wound the heart that trusts her.  Oh, if you love your own sisters, be generous, be just, and do not destroy that poor girl’s happiness, but go away before your sport becomes a bitter pain to her!”

Joe Leavenworth had stood staring at Debby with a troubled countenance, feeling as if all the misdemeanors of his life were about to be paraded before him; but, as he listened to her plea, the womanly spirit that prompted it appealed more loudly than her words, and in his really generous heart he felt regret for what had never seemed a fault before.  Shallow as he was, nature was stronger than education, and he admired and accepted what many a wiser, worldlier man would have resented with auger or contempt.  He loved Debby with all his little might; he meant to tell her so, and graciously present his fortune and himself for her acceptance; but now, when the moment came, the well-turned speech he had prepared vanished from his memory, and with the better eloquence of feeling he blundered out his passion like a very boy.

“Miss Dora, I never meant to make trouble between Clara and her lover; upon my soul, I didn’t, and wish Seguin had not put the notion into my head, since it has given you pain.  I only tried to pique you into showing some regret, when I neglected you; but you didn’t, and then I got desperate and didn’t care what became of any one.  Oh, Dora, if you knew how much I loved you, I am sure you’d forgive it, and let me prove my repentance by giving up everything that you dislike.  I mean what I say; upon my life I do; and I’ll keep my word, if you will only let me hope.”

If Debby had wanted a proof of her love for Frank Evan, she might have found it in the fact that she had words enough at her command now, and no difficulty in being sisterly pitiful toward her second suitor.