was rather awful; for his indignation was of the righteous sort, and much thunder often rouses up a drowsy soul when sunshine has no effect. Rose liked it, and sincerely wished Aunt Clara had been there to get the benefit of the outbreak; for she needed just such an awakening from the self-indulgent dream in which she lived.
"Do it, and save Charlie before it is too late!" she cried, kindling herself as she watched him; for he looked like a roused lion, as he walked about the room, with his hand clenched and a spark in his eye, evidently in desperate earnest, and ready to do almost any thing.
"Will you help?" he asked, stopping suddenly, with a look that made her stand up straight and strong as she answered with an eager voice,—
"I will."
"Then don't love him—yet."
That startled her; but she asked steadily, though her heart began to beat and her color to come,—
"Why not?"
"Firstly, because no woman should give her happiness into the keeping of a man without fixed principles; secondly, because the hope of being worthy of you will help him more than any prayers or preaching of mine. Thirdly, because it will need all our wit and patience to undo the work of nearly four and twenty years. You understand what I mean?"
"Yes, sir."
