He was too polite to urge her, and the conversation soon took another channel.
After a time Lenora left the room, and Mrs.Carter, again speaking of the letter, begged to make a confidant of Mr.Hamilton, and ask his advice.

He heard the letter read through, and after a moment's silence asked, "Do you like him, Mrs.Carter ?" "Why--no--I don't think I do," said she, "but then the widow's lot is so lonely." "I know it is," sighed he, while through the keyhole of the opposite door came something which sounded very much like a stifled laugh! It was the hour of Ernest Hamilton's temptation, and but for the remembrance of the sad, white face which had gazed so sorrowfully at him from the window he had fallen.

But Maggie's presence seemed with him--her voice whispered in his ear, "Don't do it, father, don't"-- and he calmly answered that it would be a good match.

But he could not, no he could not advise her to marry him; so he qualified what he had said by asking her not to be in a hurry--to wait awhile.

The laugh through the keyhole was changed to a hiss, which Mrs.Carter said must be the wind, although there was not enough stirring to move the rose bushes which grew by the doorstep! So much was Mr.Hamilton held in thrall by the widow that on his way home he hardly knew whether to be glad or sorry that he had not proposed.