ook most
kindly to the emancipation of women. She had a friend in Brooklyn who
was lecturing on the subject; and she had vague aspirations that way
herself. She was still a woman of fine presence and a fair share of
intelligence.

Bridget had married, and been superseded by an untrained Katy. Aunt
Patty was growing rather weak-hearted and childish, so Delia did have
her hands full, and but little time for writing.

Theodore had been absent hardly a week when the stroke came. One
morning, Aunt Patty was unable to move hand or foot on one side, and
could hardly speak intelligibly, though her face kept its sweet
expression. Mrs. Whitney had gone away somewhere with her friend.

When Ben heard the sad story that night, and folded the trembling,
sobbing girl to his heart, his resolve was taken. A nurse had come, to
be sure; but Delia should not bear this trial alone. He must live here,
and comfort her with his love.

He went home quite early that evening. His father and Hanny were in
Joe's study; his mother sat alone, darning stockings.

She glanced up and smiled; but when she saw his grave face, she said,
"Oh, Ben, what has happened?"

"They are in great trouble down at Beach Street. Old Aunt Boudinot has
had a stroke of paralysis. Mrs. Whitney has gone on a little journey
with a friend; and Delia is alone. Mother, I have resolved to be married
and help her bear her burthen. There is no immediate danger of Miss
Boudinot dying, I believe; but since The. is away--they need some one--"

"Ben!"

Then she looked in her boy's face. Benny Frank and Jim were still boys
to her. There was Joe to be married before it came their turn, and poor
George, if he should live to come back. But it was not a boy's face, nor
a boy's pleading eyes, that met hers. A man's grave sweetness, and sense
of responsibility, shone in the clear, deep grey orbs, and the whole
face had matured, so that she was amazed, bewildered.

"Mother dear," he began, "can't you wish me God speed, as you have the
others? I've never loved any one but Delia; I never shall. I know I can
make her happy; and isn't there some duty on my side? Am I to demand
everything, and throw out a few crumbs of comfort now and then? We have
known each other long enough to be quite sure, quite satisfied. But she
has said all along she would not marry me until she could be considered
a daughter of the house. I shall persuade her to now, unless--mother,
can't you give her a welcome