"
"No, Henry, nor am I sure that you would wish me to. It was for the
old town's sake that you loved me. I was a part of your dream--a part
of the old and happy past, upon which you hoped to build, as upon the
foundations of the old mill, a broader and a fairer structure. Do you
remember what you told me, that night--that happy night--that you
loved me because in me you found the embodiment of an ideal? Well,
Henry, that is why I did not wish to make our engagement known, for I
knew, I felt, the difficulty of your task, and I foresaw that you
might be disappointed, and I feared that if your ideal should be
wrecked, you might find me a burden. I loved you, Henry--I seem to
have always loved you, but I would not burden you."
"No, no, Laura--not so! not so!"
"And you wanted me for Phil's sake, whom we both loved; and now that
your dream is over, and Phil is gone, I should only remind you of
where you lost him, and of your disappointment, and of--this other
thing, and I could not be sure that you loved me or wanted me."
"Surely you cannot doubt it, Laura?" His voice was firm, but to her
sensitive spirit it did not carry conviction.
"You remembered me from my youth," she continued tremulously but
bravely, "and it was the image in your memory that you loved. And now,
when you go away, the old town will shrink and fade from your memory
and your heart and you will have none but harsh thoughts of it; nor
can I blame you greatly, for you have grown far away from us, and we
shall need many years to overtake you.
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