It was hard for her to watch a
growing romance and not help it along as she had done of yore; and many
a time did her lips withhold the words that trembled upon them--words
which would have furthered the fortunes of a worthy suitor to a waiting
hand--but she had resolved, and there was the end of it.
It is history, however, that the strongest characters will at times
falter and fall, and so it was with Mrs. Upton and her resolution
finally. There came a time when the pressure was too strong to be
resisted.
"I can't help it, Henry," she said, as she thought it all over, and saw
wherein her duty lay. "We must bring Molly Meeker and Walter together.
He is just the sort of a man for her; and if there is one thing he needs
more than another to round out his character, it is a wife like Molly."
"Remember your oath, my dear," replied Upton.
"But this will be a vesta, Henry," smiled Mrs. Upton. "Walter and you
are very much alike, and you said the other night that Molly reminded
you of me--sometimes."
"That's true," said Upton. "She does--that's what I like about her--but,
after all, she isn't you. A mill-pond might remind you at times of a
great and beautiful lake, but it wouldn't be the lake, you know. I grant
that Walter and I are alike as two peas, but I deny that Molly can hold
a candle to you."
"Oh you!" snapped Mrs. Upton. "Haven't you got your eyes opened to my
faults yet?"
"Yessum," said Upton.
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