"Edna, if you are as truthful in all matters as you have proved in your dislikes, I may safely entrust this key to your keeping. It belongs to that marble temple in my sitting-room, and opens a vault that contains my will and a box of papers, and—some other things that I value. There is no possibility of entering it, except with this key, and no one but myself knows the contents. I wish to leave the key with you, on two conditions: first, that you never mention it to any one—not even my mother, or allow her to suspect that you have it; secondly that you promise me solemnly you will not open the tomb or temple unless I fail to return at the close of four years. This is the tenth of December—four years from today, if I am not here, and you have good reason to consider me dead, take this key (which I wish you to wear about your person) to my mother, inform her of this conversation, and then open the vault. Can you resist the temptation to look into it? Think well before you answer."
"I should not like to take charge of it, Mr. Murray. You can certainly trust your own mother sooner than an utter stranger like myself."
I tell you I do not choose to leave it in any hands but yours. Will you promise or will you not?"
The dreary wretchedness, the savage hopelessness of his countenance awed and pained the girl, and after moment's silence, and a short struggle with her heart, she extended her hand, saying with evident reluctance:
"Give me the key, I will not betray your trust."
St. Elmo captured the hearts of an entire generation of romantic schoolgirls—and taught them the Christian Faith.
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