d
I at length bade adieu to our friends, after a protracted visit, and
returned to the city, where, by my direction, a pleasant and tasteful
house already awaited us. Rose liked not to reside in the noisy city, so
our home is in one of the most pleasant suburbs in Montreal. Should any
of my readers be curious enough to enquire if Rose and I are happy, I
would cordially invite them to pay us a visit, and judge for themselves,
the first time they pass our way. The evening before we were to leave
Elmwood, I was seated beneath my favorite tree in my mother's garden,
and leaning backward against its grey trunk, with its thick and
wide-spreading canopy of green branches above my head, I indulged in a
long and deep reverie. Memory ran backward over the careless happy days
of my childhood, the struggles of my youth, and the exertions of mature
manhood; and although bereft, at a very early age, of my earthly father,
I could not fail to observe the guiding hand of a Heavenly Father who had
smiled upon my youthful efforts to assist my widowed mother, and had
prospered my undertakings, and crowned my mature years, by giving me,
as a life-partner, the one who had been my first and only choice, and
almost unconsciously to myself, I repeated aloud the following verse from
what was Grandma Adams' favorite psalm: "Commit thy way unto the Lord,
trust also in Him; and He shall bring it to pass."

So busily was my mind occupied that I failed to notice the approach of
my sister Flora, till she seated herself close to my side, and leaning
her head upon my shoulder said in a constrained hesitating voice: "There
is one thing I must tell you, Walter, before you go away: Charley Gray
has told me he loves me, and asks me to be his wife." This did not
surprise me much for I had noticed with secret anxiety the growing
intimacy between Charley and my sister. "What shall I tell him, Walter,"
said my sister, "for I must not, dare not act without the counsel of my
only brother?" I looked up in my sister's face with all the affection
which welled up from my heart and said, "you love him then, Flora?" "How
can I help loving him, who is so gifted, so noble," was her reply.
"And," continued she, "on account of his reserved nature, I believe few
give him credit for the real goodness of heart he possesses." As Flora
had said, Charley possessed a kind heart, and was just and honorable in
every respect, but I trembled for the woman who placed her happiness in