rd who
became the wife of a Shoreham."

"Tell me, mon cher cousin," said Adrienne, smiling through her
tears--"were your grand-parents, my good uncle and aunt, were they
happy? Was their union blessed?"

{mon cher cousin = my dear cousin}

"They were miracles of domestic felicity, and their happiness has
passed down in tradition, among all their descendants. Even religion
could not furnish them with a cause for misunderstanding. That example
which they set to the last century, we will endeavor to set to this."

Adrienne smiled, kissed her hand to Betts, and ran out of the room,
leaving me forgotten on the sofa. Betts Shoreham seized his hat, and
left the house, a happy man; for, though he had no direct promise as
yet, he felt as reasonably secure of success, as circumstances required.

CHAPTER XVII.

Five minutes later, Tom Thurston entered, and Julia Monson came down to
receive HIM, her pique not interfering, and it being rather stylish to
be disengaged on the morning of the day when the household was in all
the confusion of a premeditated rout.

{premeditated rout = planned party}

"This is SO good of you, Miss Monson," said Tom, as he made his bow--I
heard it all, being still on the sofa--"This is SO good of you, when
your time must have so many demands on it."

"Not in the least, Mr. Thurston--mamma and the housekeeper have settled
every thing, and I am really pleased to see you, as you can give me the
history of the new play--"

"Ah! Miss Monson, my heart--my faculties--my ideas--" Tom was getting
bothered, and he made a desperate effort to extricate himself--"In
short, my JUDGMENT is so confused and monopolized, that I have no
powers left to think or speak of plays. In a word, I was not there."

"That explains it, then--and what has thus confused your mind, Mr.
Thurston?"

"The approach of this awful night. You will be surrounded by a host of
admirers, pouring into your ears their admiration and love, and then
what shall I have to support me, but that 'yes,' with which you once
raised me from the depths of despair to an elevation of happiness that
was high as the highest pinnacle of the caverns of Kentucky; raising me
from the depths of Chimborazo."

{caverns of Kentucky = Mammoth Cave; Chimborazo = a 20,500 foot volcano
in Ecuador}

Tom meant to reverse this image, but love is proverbially desperate in
its figures of speech, and any thing was better than appearing to
hesitate. Nevertheless,