“I pray for him continually.  My latest breath shall be a prayer for his salvation.  His eternal welfare is almost as precious to me as my own; for if I get to heaven at last, do you suppose I could be happy even there without him?  But, Mrs. Murray, I can not be his wife.  If he is indeed conscientiously striving to atone for his past life, he will be saved without my influence; and if his remorseful convictions of duty do not reform him, his affection for me would not accomplish it.  Oh! of all mournful lots in life, I think mine is the saddest!  To find it impossible to tear my heart from a man whom I distrust, whom I can not honor, whose fascination I dread.  I know my duty in this matter—­my conscience leaves me no room to doubt—­ and from the resolution which I made in sight of Annie’s grave, I must not swerve.  I have confessed to you how completely my love belongs to him, how fruitless are my efforts to forget him.  I have told you what bitter suffering our separation costs me, that you may know how useless it is for you to urge me.  Ah! if I can withstand the wailing of my own lonely, aching heart, there is nothing else that can draw me from the path of duty; no, no! not even your entreaties, dear Mrs. Murray, much as I love and owe you.  God, who alone sees all, will help me to bear my loneliness.  He only can comfort and sustain me; and in His own good time He will save Mr. Murray, and send peace into his troubled soul.  Until then, let us pray patiently.”

Flush and tremor had passed away, the features were locked in rigid whiteness; and the unhappy mother saw that further entreaty would indeed be fruitless.

She rose and paced the floor for some moments.  At last Edna said: 

“How long will you remain in New York?”

“Two days.  Edna, I came here against my son’s advice, in opposition to his wishes, to intercede in his behalf and to prevail on you to go home with me.  He knew you better it seems than I did; for he predicted the result, and desired to save me from mortification; but I obstinately clung to the belief that you cherish some feeling of affectionate gratitude toward me.  You have undeceived me.  Mr. Hammond is eagerly expecting you, and it will be a keen disappointment to the old man if I return without you.  Is it useless to tell you that you ought to go and see him?  You need not hesitate on St. Elmo’s account; for unless you wish to meet him, you will certainly not see him.  My son is too proud to thrust himself into the presence of any one, much less into yours, Edna Earl.”

“I will go with you, Mrs. Murray, and remain at the parsonage—­at least for a few weeks.”

“I scarcely think Mr. Hammond will live until spring; and it will make him very happy to have you in his home.”

Mrs. Murray wrapped her shawl around her and put on her gloves.

“I shall be engaged with Estelle while I am here, and shall not call again; but of course you will come to the hotel to see her, and we will start homeward day after to-morrow evening.”