This suspense is intolerable," murmured Arthur Bernard to himself,
while in blissful unconsciousness his companion went on. "Why does he
not speak her name out clearly, and put an end to this torture, which
racks every nerve of my frame?"

"And now, Arthur, I want your advice. Woman-hater as you are,"--Clifford
said with a smile.

"I suppose Agnes told him that, she thought so herself, no doubt," was
Arthur's mental parenthesis.

"Woman-hater as you are, I know you deem my hopes and fears as both
unfounded; but, never mind, you will, I trust, know by experience some
day or other, so, in consideration of that coming, happy time, will you
inform me in what terms I can possibly have the presumption, to request
of the lady's relative, that he graciously permit her to bestow her hand
upon your humble servant?"

"I do not foresee any difficulty," said Arthur, with a tremulous effort
at composure. "The lady's consent once secured, I should think all
others of comparatively little moment, and with the knowledge that her
happiness depends on their sanction, it will, I believe, be readily
accorded."

"How happy you make me, my dear fellow, though you did deliver that
speech, as though you were negotiating some bank business. And so, you
would advise me to put a bold face on the matter, and say to them, 'she
is mine, and I will have her.'"

"If that form of expression suits you best, use it, by all means; I have
no objection."

"Then I shall act upon your advice immediately, Arthur Bernard," and the
voice at once became deeply solemn and earnest. "Are you willing to
resign to my fondest, my tenderest care, your only and beloved sister
Ella, to whom I am aware you are so deeply attached, and who returns
your affection with all the warmth of her loving nature."

Arthur Bernard, could not reply. He was bewildered, stunned, at the
intelligence. From the very depth and agony of despair, to be raised to
the very summit of hope, was almost too much for poor human nature to
bear. His friend observed his emotion, but attributed it to a very
different cause, and his countenance, so joyous a moment before, clouded
instantly.

"I see," he said, in a low and mournful tone, "that this does not meet
your wishes, nor can I wonder at it, for I feel I am not worthy of so
precious a gift, except for the intense love I bear her,--a love which,
I trust, if permitted, shall be manifested in every action of my future
life."

"Not meet my w