it is proper I should know it.

"It certainly is," said Alida. Soon after we received the intelligence
of your family misfortunes, my father came into the room where I was
sitting: 'Alida,' said he, 'your conduct has ever been that of a dutiful
child,--mine, of an indulgent parent. My ultimate wish is to see my
children, when settled in life, happy and honourably respected. For this
purpose I have bestowed on them a proper education, and design suitably
to apportion my property among them. On their part, it is expected they
will act prudently and discreetly, especially in those things which
concern materially their future peace and welfare: the principal
requisite to insure this is a proper connexion in marriage.' Here my
father paused a considerable time, and then continued: 'I know, my
child, that your situation is a very delicate one. Your marriage-day is
appointed; it was named under the fairest prospects. By the failure of
Theodore's father, those prospects have become deeply darkened, if not
totally obliterated. To commit your fortune through life to a person in
his present circumstances, would be hazardous in the extreme. The day
named can at least be suspended; perhaps something more favourable may
appear. At any rate, I have too much confidence in your discretion to
suppose that you will, by any rash act, bring reproach either upon
yourself or your connexions.' Thus spake my father, and immediately
withdrew.

"In our present dilemma," said Theodore, "what is proper to be done?"

"It is difficult to determine," answered Alida. "Should my father
expressly forbid our union, or to see each other at present, it is
probable he will carry his commands into effect. I would advise you to
call on him to-morrow with your usual freedom. Whatever may be the
event, I shall deal sincerely with you. Mrs. Raymond has been my friend
and associate from my earliest years--Raymond you know. In them we can
place the utmost confidence. From them you will be enabled to obtain
information should I be prevented from seeing you. My reliance on
Providence, I trust, will never be shaken, but my future prospects, at
present, are dark and gloomy."

"Let us not despair," said Theodore; "perhaps those gloomy clouds which
now hover around us, may yet be dissipated by the bright beams of joy.
Worth and innocence are the care of Heaven,--there rests my hope.
To-morrow, as you propose, I will call at your father's. If I should be
debarred in