“No, mam,” I replied, “but I have been so full of thoughts I could not help hurrying.”

“I hope you’re on the right track, Emily; sometimes ideas that stir one up so aint jest the kind we ought to have.”

“I’m on the track of truth, Aunt Hildy, and that is the right track.”

“Well, it ought to be, but sometimes truth has to wait for sin to get by before it can move an inch.  I’ve seen it so many a time,” and a sort of sigh fluttered to her lips, but the look of resolution that followed it closely gave it no time to linger, and the lines about her mouth grew firm as she resumed her bread-kneading.

Clara was better during this day, and while she took her after-dinner nap, I came quickly down into Hal’s studio, and seated myself in his chair with a book.

Hal was in town all day on business, and I expected Mr. Benton to be there, and he appeared, saying: 

“You look very comfortable, Miss Minot; am I an intruder?”

“No, sir, you are the person I wish of all others to talk to.”  Where was my guardian angel then?

“In need of advice, are you?”

“No, sir, not at all; I have some to give, however,” and his eyes opened widely, as he seated himself almost directly opposite me on a lounge, taking a very artistic position, with his head resting on his hand, and his arm supported by that of the lounge.

“Proceed, Miss Minot, for I assure you I am much in need of comfort, and if you had been ready before, I might have been thankful to receive it.”

I had begun more abruptly than I meant, and already felt I was stepping on dangerous ground.  I thought for an instant I would turn it aside in a joke, then Clara’s pale face rose before, and I said impetuously: 

“I came to speak for another, though without her authority or knowledge.  I desire to ask you not to trouble Clara, by persisting in your suit.”

He started to his feet as if a hand had struck him, walked a few steps, and then turned toward me with a blanched face, and eyes that seemed to be leaping from their sockets; he was struggling between anger and policy.  The latter prevailed, as he said: 

“You are much interested in me; you fear that I shall have a friend.  Is that it?”

“I suggested nothing of that kind; I fear my lovely Clara may die.”  He smiled derisively.

“Am I then such a monster that I am feared?  Really, Miss Minot, your picture of me is rather different from anything I have before known.”

“I ought to have known you would not understand me.  It would have been equal folly for me to try to explain Clara’s nature to you, for you do not and cannot appreciate it.”

“We are getting into deep water,” he interrupted, but I continued: 

“I have never called you a monster and have treated you as well as I knew how to.  You were my brother’s friend, I have not doubted your esteem for Clara, for how can any see her without loving and respecting her; that is not the point.  Your feelings, she has told you, she cannot reciprocate; why can you not respect her feelings, even at the sacrifice of your own?  If you would do this, Mr. Benton, you would be stronger.”