The Rector of St. Marks

There were red spots on Lucy's face, but her lips were very white, and

the buttons on her riding dress rose and fell rapidly with the beating

of her heart as she looked steadily at Arthur. Was he going to send

her from him, send her back to the insipid life she had lived before

she knew him? It was too terrible to believe, and the great tears

rolled slowly down her cheeks. Then, as a flash of pride came to her

aid, she dashed them away, and said haughtily: "And so, for fear I shall fall in love with you, and be ruined,

perhaps, you are sacrificing both comfort and freedom, shutting

yourself up here among your books and studies to the neglect of other

duties? But it need be so no longer. The necessity for it, if it

existed once, certainly does not now. I will not be in your way.

Forgive me that I ever have been."

Lucy's voice began to tremble as she gathered up her riding-habit and

turned to find her gauntlets. One of them had dropped upon the floor,

between the table and the rector, and as she stooped to reach it her

curls almost swept the young man's lap.

"Let me get it for you," he said, hastily pushing back his chair, and

awkwardly entangling his foot in her dress, so that when she rose she

stumbled backward, and would have fallen but for the arm he quickly

passed around her.

Something in the touch of that quivering form completed the work of

temptation, and he held it for an instant while she said to him: "Please, let me go, sir!"

"No, Lucy, I can't let you go; I want you to stay with me."

Instantly the drooping head was uplifted, and Lucy's eyes looked into

his with such a wistful, pleading, wondering look, that Arthur saw, or

thought he saw, his duty plain, and, gently touching his lips to the

brow glistening so white within their reach, he continued: "There is a way to stop the gossip and make it right for me to see

you. Promise to be my wife, and not even Captain Humphreys will say

aught against it."

Arthur's voice trembled a little now, for the mention of Captain

Humphreys had brought a thought of Anna, whose brown eyes seemed for

an instant to look reproachfully upon that wooing. But Arthur had gone

too far to retract--he had committed himself, and now he had only to

wait for Lucy's answer.

There was no deception about her. Hers was a nature as clear as

crystal, and, with a gush of glad tears, she promised to be the

rector's wife, hiding her face in his bosom, and telling him brokenly

how unworthy she was, how foolish and how unsuited to the place, but

promising to do the best she could do not to bring him into disgrace

on account of her shortcomings.