“Gordon seems to admire her very much,” said Mrs. Murray.

Mr. Hammond sighed, and a shadow crept over his placid features, as he answered: 

“Do you wonder at it, Ellen?  Can any one know the child well, and fail to admire and love her?”

“If he could only forget her obscure birth—­if he could only consent to marry her—­what a splendid match it would be for her?”

“Ellen!  Ellen Murray!  I am surprised at you!  Let me beg of you for her sake, for yours, for all parties concerned, not to raise your little finger in this matter; not to utter one word to Edna that might arouse her suspicions; not to hint to Gordon that you dream such an alliance possible; for there is more at stake than you imagine—­”

He was unable to conclude the sentence, for the dance had ended, and as Edna caught a glimpse of the beloved countenance of her teacher, she drew her fingers from Mr. Leigh’s arm, and hastened to the pastor’s side, taking his hand between both hers: 

“O, sir!  I am glad to see you.  I have looked around so often; hoping to catch sight of you.  Mrs. Murray, I heard Mrs. Inge asking for you.”

When the lady walked away, Edna glided into the seat next the minister, and continued: 

“I want to talk to you about a change in some of my studies.”

“Wait till to-morrow, my dear.  I came here to-night only for a few moments, to gratify Gordon and now I must slip away.”

“But, sir, I only want to say, that as you objected at the outset to my studying Hebrew, I will not waste any more time on it just now, but take it up again after a while, when I have plenty of leisure.  Don’t you think that would be the best plan?”

“My child, are you tired of Hebrew?”

“No, sir; on the contrary, it possesses a singular fascination for me; but I think, if you are willing, I shall discontinue it—­at least, for the present.  I shall take care to forget nothing that I have already learned.”

“You have some special reason for this change, I presume?”

She raised her eyes to his, and said frankly: 

“Yes, sir, I have.”

“Very well, my dear, do as you like.  Good-night.”

“I wish I could go now with you.”

“Why?  I thought you appeared to enjoy your dance very much.  Edna, look at me.”

She hesitated—­then obeyed him, and he saw tears glistening on her long lashes.

Very quietly the old man drew her arm through his, and led her out on the dim veranda, where only an occasional couple promenaded.

“Something troubles you, Edna.  Will you confide in me?”

“I feel as if I were occupying a false position here, and yet I do not see how I can extricate myself without displeasing Mrs. Murray, whom I can not bear to offend—­she is so very kind and generous.”

“Explain yourself, my dear.”