“When you followed the sea,” she said quickly, “if you had a good ship with a freight that you had gathered with great care and hopefulness, and had brought it almost to the market that it was suited for, would you have been persuaded to turn about and take it to some place where it would be next to useless?”

“No,” said Captain Parish, “no, I shouldn’t,” and he half smiled at this illustration.

“I can’t tell you all my reasons for not wishing to marry,” Nan went on, growing very white and determined, “or all my reasons for wishing to go on with my plan of being a doctor; but I know I have no right to the one way of life, and a perfect one, so far as I can see, to the other.  And it seems to me that it would be as sensible to ask Mr. Gerry to be a minister since he has just finished his law studies, as to ask me to be a wife instead of a physician.  But what I used to dread without reason a few years ago, I must forbid myself now, because I know the wretched inheritance I might have had from my poor mother’s people.  I can’t speak of that to Aunt Nancy, but you must tell her not to try to make me change my mind.”

“Good God!” said the captain.  “I dare say you have the right points of it; but if I were a young man ’t would go hard with me to let you take your life into your own hands.  It’s against nature.”

“No,” said Nan.  “The law of right and wrong must rule even love, and whatever comes to me, I must not forget that.  Three years ago I had not thought about it so much, and I might not have been so sure; but now I have been taught there is only one road to take.  And you must tell Aunt Nancy this.”

But when they went back to the house, Miss Prince was not to be seen, and the captain hurried away lest she should make her appearance, for he did not wish just then to talk about the matter any more.  He told himself that young people were very different in these days; but when he thought of the words he had heard in the garden, and remembered the pale face and the steadfast, clear-toned voice, he brushed away something like a tear.  “If more people used judgment in this same decision the world would be better off,” he said, and could not help reminding himself that his own niece, little Mary Parish, who was wearing a wistful countenance in these days, might by and by be happy after all.  For Nan’s part it was a great relief to have spoken to the kind old man; she felt more secure than before; but sometimes the fear assailed her that some unforeseen event or unreckoned influence might give her back to her indecisions, and that the battle of the night before might after all prove not to be final.

The afternoon wore away, and late in the day our heroine heard George Gerry’s step coming up the street.  She listened as she sat by the upper window, and found that he was giving a message for her.  It was perfect weather to go up the river, he was saying; the tide served just right and would bring them home early; and Miss Prince, who was alone in the parlor, answered with pleased assurance that she was sure her niece would like to go.  “Yes,” said Nan, calling from the window, urged by a sudden impulse.  “Yes indeed, I should like it above all things; I will get ready at once; will you carry two pairs of oars?”