“You leave me only one course, Willard,—­to bear with you as if you were a passionate child.  You never need hope for my consent to an alliance with the under-bred creature who has been the cause of this folly.”

“Thank you.  You now give me your complete idea of my manhood.  I request that these subjects be dismissed finally between us.  I make another pledge,—­I shall be silent whenever you broach them;” and with a bow he left the apartment.

Half an hour later he was climbing the nearest mountain, resolved on a few hours of solitude.  From a lofty height he could see the little Vosburgh cottage, and, by the aid of a powerful glass, observed that the pony phaeton did not go out as usual, although the day was warm and beautiful after the storm.

The mists of passion were passing from his mind, and in strong reaction from his violent excitement he sunk, at first, into deep depression.  So morbid was he that he cried aloud:  “O my father!  Would to God that you had lived!  Where are you that you can give no counsel, no help?”

But he was too young to give way to utter despondency, and at last his mind rallied around the words he had spoken to Marian.  “I shall, hereafter, measure everything by the breadth of your woman’s soul.”

As he reviewed the events of the summer in the light of recent experience, he saw how strong, unique, and noble her character was.  Faults she might have in plenty, but she was above meannesses and mercenary calculation.  The men who had sought her society had been incited to manly action, and beneath all the light talk and badinage earnest and heroic purposes had been formed; he meanwhile, poor fool! had been too blinded by conceited arrogance to understand what was taking place.  He had so misunderstood her as to imagine that after she had spent a summer in giving heroic impulses she would be ready to form an alliance that would stultify all her action, and lose her the esteem of men who were proving their regard in the most costly way.  He wondered at himself, but thought:—­

“I had heard so much about financial marriages abroad that I had gained the impression that no girl in these days would slight an offer like mine.  Even her own mother was ready enough to meet my views.  I wonder if she will ever forgive me, ever receive me again as a guest, so that I can make a different impression.  I fear she will always think me a coward, hampered as I am by a restraint that I cannot break.  Well, my only chance is to take up life from her point of view, and to do the best I can.  There is something in my nature which forbids my ever yielding or giving up.  So far as it is now possible I shall keep my word to her, and if she has a woman’s heart she may, in time, so far relent as to give me a place among her friends.  This is now my ambition, for, if I achieve this, I shall know I am winning such manhood as I can attain.”

When Merwyn appeared at dinner he was as quiet and courteous as if nothing had happened; but his mother was compelled to note that the boyishness had departed out of his face, and in its strong lines she recognized his growing resemblance to his father.