ple talked, and wondered, and found
fault, and everybody but Mr. and Mrs. Grey, whom it most concerned,
knew a great deal; and they, though they had eyes, saw not; and ears
had they, but heard not; and understandings, and heeded not--deaf and
blind, as parents always are, until too late.

The thunderbolt fell at last, however. Mr. Wentworth, in form, asked
Mr. Grey's consent to address Pauline, which Mr. Grey very decidedly
refused, looking upon the young man as very presumptuous even to ask
it; whereupon Mr. Wentworth informed the father that he was authorized
by his daughter to address him on the subject, and her happiness being
involved as well as his own, he trusted Mr. Grey would re-consider his
proposal, and incline more favorably to his suit.

Amazement was Mr. Grey's only feeling on first hearing this
announcement. He could scarcely believe his ears, much less take in
the subject-matter in all its bearings.

Again, however, he refused his consent, and forbade Mr. Wentworth to
think of his daughter.

He immediately communicated the conversation to his wife, who was not
less surprised than himself, but who relieved him excessively by
saying at once that there must be some misunderstanding on the young
man's part, for Pauline, she knew, took no interest in him whatever.
That is, Mrs. Grey took it for granted that Pauline must see him with
her eyes, and did not hesitate to answer for the fact.

She went at once to Pauline's room, where she found her lying on the
sofa, a book open in her hand, but evidently lost in a world of dreamy
and pleasant revery. With very little circumlocution, for Mrs. Grey
was too much excited to choose her words carefully, she repeated to
Pauline her conversation with her father; whereupon Pauline rose, and
sitting up, her color changing, but her eye clear and bright, said,

"Surely, mother, you knew it all."

"Knew what, Pauline?"

"That Mr. Wentworth was attached to me, and that I--I--"

"Surely, Pauline," exclaimed Mrs. Grey, hastily, "you are not
interested in him."

"Yes," answered Pauline, roused by her mother's tone and manner to
something of her old spirit, and looking at her fully and clearly, all
diffidence having now vanished in the opposition she saw before her,
"I am--I love him, love him with my whole soul."

"Pauline, my child, are you mad!" almost shrieked Mrs. Grey, shocked
almost past the power of endurance by her daughter's tones and words.

"_I_ am not ma