‘Oh, I am making no objection, sir,’ returned Robson; ’the young man may take his pleasure for what I care, so he can be trusted not to neglect his business.’

Here the path narrowed, and Mary had to fall back out of hearing; but she had an unpleasant suspicion that Robson was telling her father something to Tom’s disadvantage, and she had to consider how to avoid rousing a jealousy, which she knew might be dangerous.

Mr. Ward, however, came up to interrupt her thoughts and watch the steps of her mule.  The worst difficulties of the descent had precluded all conversation; and the party were just beginning to breathe freely, think of terra firma as not far off, and gaze with easier minds on the marvellous ocean.  Mary went on in very comfortable discussion of the wonders they had seen, and of Madison’s remark that the performances of the Incas made one quite ashamed of the achievements of modern science—­a saying in which Mr. Ward perfectly agreed; and then he began to say something rather long, and a little disconnected, and Mary’s mind took an excursion to Aunt Kitty, and the reading of the letter that she was going to write, when suddenly something in Mr. Ward’s voice startled her, and recalling her attention, she discovered, to her dismay, that he was actually making her an offer!  An offer!  She would as soon have expected one from her father!  And oh! how well expressed—­how entirely what it ought to be!  How unlike every one of those three of her past experience!

In great distress she exclaimed, ’Oh, Mr. Ward, pray do not—­indeed, I cannot!’

‘I feared that I was but too likely to meet with such an answer,’ said Mr. Ward; ’and yet your father encouraged me to hope, that in course of time—­’

‘Then papa has told you what he thinks?’ said Mary.

’I applied to him before I could venture to join this party.  Mary, I am aware that I can bring none of the advantages which have’—­his voice faltered—­’which have forestalled me; but the most true and earnest affection is already yours.’

‘I am very sorry for it, Mr. Ward,’ said Mary, gravely, though much touched.  ’It is very kind of you, but it is only fair and candid to tell you that papa has probably led you into a mistake.  He thinks that the—­the object was weak and unworthy, and that my feelings could be easily overcome.  He does not know—­’

‘He assured me that all was at an end—­’

‘It is,’ said Mary; ’but I am certain that I shall never feel for any one else the same as’—­and the tears were coming last.  ’You are very kind, Mr. Ward, but it is of no use to think that this can ever be.’