But all days are heavenly sweet out of doors with you and Lizzy," she continued, lifting one hand, and laying it caressingly on the hand which was stroking her hair.
"O Mercy! Mercy! couldn't I make all days sweet for you?
Come to me, darling, and let me try!" came from Parson Dorrance's lips in hurried and husky tones.
Mercy looked at him for one second in undisguised terror and bewilderment.
Then she uttered a sharp cry, as of one who had suddenly got a wound, and, burying her face in her hands, sank into a chair and began to cry convulsively.
Parson Dorrance walked up and down the room.

He dared not speak.

He was not quite sure what Mercy's weeping meant; so hard is it, for a single moment, to wrench a great hope out of a man's heart.

But, as she continued sobbing, he understood.

Unselfish to the core, his first thought was, even now, "Alas! now she will never let me do any thing more for her.