Hope!" cried Mary, with a sudden
flood of tears. "You might as well tell me not to lay my trouble before
my God. Dear, dear Mr. Hope, who saved my life in those deep waters, and
then cried over me, darling dear! I think more of that than of his
courage. Do you think I am blind? He loves me better than my own father
does; and it is not a young man's love; it is an angel's. Not cry to
_him_ when I am in the deep waters of affliction? I could not write of
such a thing to him for blushing, but the moment he returns I shall
find some way to let him know how happy I have been, how broken-hearted
I am, and that papa has reasons against _him_, and they are your reasons
for him, and that you are both afraid to let _me_ know these _curious_
reasons--me, the poor girl whose heart is being made a foot-ball of in
this house. Oh! oh! oh!"
"Don't cry, Miss Mary," said Nurse Easton, tenderly; "and pray don't
excite yourself so. Why, I never saw you like this before."
"Had I ever the same reason? You have only known the happy, thoughtless
child.
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