"But"-- she paused.

No words came to her lips, for the bitter consciousness which filled her heart.
Lizzy's voice sank to a husky whisper.
"But what ?" she said.

"O Mercy, Mercy! is it Stephen White you love ?" And Lizzy's face, even in that solemn hour, took a look of scorn.

"Are you going to marry Stephen White ?" she continued.
"Never, Lizzy,--never!" said Mercy, in a tone as concentrated as if a lifetime ended there; and, stooping low, she kissed the rigid hands which lay folded on the heart of the man she ought to have loved, but had not.
Then, turning away, she took Lizzy's hands in hers, and kissing, her forehead said earnestly,-- "We will never speak again of this, Lizzy, remember." Lizzy was overawed by her tone, and made no reply.
Parson Dorrance's funeral was a scene which will never be forgotten by those who saw it.

It was on one of the fiercest days which the fierce New England March can show.