As Margaret spoke with an earnestness of feeling that forced the tears from her eyes, the soft but strong west wind brought distinctly to the porch where they sat, the sound of a passing bell.
The tones were so appropriate; they seemed so completely the echo of her sentiments, that both remained perfectly silent for some time. Margaret thought that her companion was moved by her words, for he remained with his face hidden in his hands; and still at intervals, the dull sound struck upon their ears.
"There," he said looking up at length, "that is the knell of the poor girl you saw yesterday."
"Is it?" said Margaret, "I envy her," and she dried her eyes once or twice; but she scarcely had power left to weep. She had passed half the night in tears, and she was now feeling the exhaustion which follows strong emotion. "But I am surprised;" she said, "I should never have imagined that she was as near her end. It is a very treacherous complaint. Is it not?"
"I believe so," he returned absently. "The poor mother!" said Margaret, her voice trembling, "what sad distress there is all around us in this world, and others are suffering too, Mr. Hubert; there is no sorrow like the death of those we love."
"You are thinking of Haveloc," said her companion, "it galls me to hear you speak of him with compassion."
"And yet I think, Mr. Hubert," said Margaret, "that you would forgive your greatest enemy under such affliction, and even speak kindly of him; indeed, I am sure you would."
"I must go away," he exclaimed, "I cannot stand this. Every instant you make yourself more dear to me. I cannot resolve to abandon the hope of one day winning your regard."
"Shall I try and argue you out of it?" said Margaret, "shall I convince you that, like most quiet people my feelings are very tenacious; and that when I say I have done with love. I do not make use of the expression common to disappointed women, but that I speak a determination that can never undergo any change. And yet I assure you, Mr. Hubert, that my friendship is worth having. For instance, I give you very good advice."
Margaret tried to speak cheerfully, but the smile would not come.
"I will follow it to the letter," said he; "you shall never see me again until I can say proudly that I have proved myself worthy of your interest. If all women would so use their influence"--He paused, unable, from emotion, to complete his sentence.