Clara and I were sitting busily sewing and talking of the coming of “her dear boy,” when she let her sewing fall and sat as in thought a few moments before she spoke.

“Emily (and she spoke slowly and with earnestness.  I felt frightened for her cheek grew white as the words fell from her lips), when Louis comes keep close to me all the time, will you?  Oh!  I know you will, and since I ask such a favor, it is only right I should tell you all about it.  I know, for I feel it in here (and she laid her hand on her head), that Professor Benton desires to talk to me.  He must not be allowed to, Emily, for if he does it will hurt me so much.  I will tell you why, and I know you will tell it to no one.”

I looked an assent and she continued: 

“He thinks that he might like me so well that he would wish me near him for ever.  But he does not know that I cannot let him say this to me.  It would be hard to make him understand me; he never could.  And then if he should know me very well, it would be all wrong.  I love my Louis Robert, and he is waiting on the hills for me.  Yes, my dear Emily, he waits for me there.  Did he not say so when he died, and will he not come for me some day when I shall be a little more weary, and this beating heart grows colder?  He says he will and I am always with him in my thoughts.  It almost hurts me to live at all.  Can you see, Emily, can you know how it is because I need you all so much that I must stay with you?  Professor Benton has a good heart, but it feels cold to me.  His art obscures from him all else; he can love no one as he loves a picture.  Now you will promise me, no not with words—­I would only feel your arm around me, and with my hand in yours feel you are my trusted one—­my soul friend and my great help.”

Silence was ill suited to my feelings at that moment.  I gathered her gentle form to me, and held her tight while those ever ready tears of sympathy filled my eyes full, and I spoke honestly when I said: 

“I don’t care a fig for Mr. Benton, and if he troubles you I will send him back to Chicago, and I wish he had never come at all.”

“Oh! oh! do not say it; I shall fear to have you know my heart, it makes you rebellious.  It is well that he came, as your brother needs him, and you do wrong to say such words.  Wait, Emily, keep quiet, you are like a wind when your thoughts are stirred, and time, my love, will help you to make your hand strong, and your heart also.  It is on a full tide and with a steady wind that vessels find the sea, while changeful blasts will shipwreck them, and then cast their wrecks upon the shore.  And so it is with mortals; we have to keep saying, wait! while we pray to be guided aright.”

“I am always running off the track, Clara, I know; teach me to know myself and let me help you; you are so different; I shall never be like you,” I said.

“And you do not wish to be, I hope,” was her reply.