Why, he would have given up every prospect of life, if he had done otherwise! Yet he wondered bitterly if she had thought him selfish,--if she thought it was money he cared for, as the others did.

It mattered nothing what they thought, but it wounded him intolerably that she should wrong him.
Yet, with all this, whenever he looked forward to death, it was with the certainty that he should find her there beyond.

There would be no secrets then; she would know then how he had loved her always.

Loved her?
Yes; he need not hide it from himself, surely.
He was now by the door of the office;--she was within.

Little Margret, poor little Margret! struggling there day after day for the old father and mother.