With womanly skill she divined the
secret, with motherly discretion she counselled patience, and her son
accepted her advice, feeling, that, like many a healthful herb, its
worth lay in its bitterness.
"Love like a man, John, not like a boy, and learn to know yourself
before you take a woman's happiness into your keeping. You and Nan
have known each other all your lives; yet, till this last visit, you
never thought you loved her more than any other childish friend. It is
too soon to say the words so often spoken hastily,--so hard to be
recalled. Go back to your work, dear, for another year; think of Nan
in the light of this new hope; compare her with comelier, gayer girls;
and by absence prove the truth of your belief. Then, if distance only
makes her dearer, if time only strengthens your affection, and no
doubt of your own worthiness disturbs you, come back and offer her
what any woman should be glad to take,--my boy's true heart."
John smiled at the motherly pride of her words, but answered with a
wistful look.
"It seems very long to wait, mother. If I could just ask her for a
word of hope, I could be very patient then."
"Ah, my dear, better bear one year of impatience now than a lifetime
of regret hereafter. Nan is happy; why disturb her by a word which
will bring the tender cares and troubles that come soon enough to such
conscientious creatures as herself? If she loves you, time will prove
it; therefore let the new affection spring and ripen as your early
friendship has done, and it will be all the stronger for a summer's
growth.
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