n gowns, with knots of
ribbon about it, which make a plain woman almost pretty, and a pretty
woman bewitching. Her dark hair looked less prim and neat than usual.
She pretended not to hear me open the door; but as I stood still at the
threshold gazing at her, she lifted up her head, with a very pleasant
smile.

"I am very glad you are come, my dear Martin," she said, softly.

CHAPTER THE SEVENTEENTH.

A LONG HALF-HOUR.

I dared not dally another moment. I must take my plunge at once into the
icy-cold waters.

"I have something of importance to say to you, dear cousin," I began.

"So have I," she said, gayly; "a thousand things, as I told you this
morning, sir, though you are so late in coming to hear them. See, I have
been making a list of a few commissions for you to do in London. They
are such as I can trust to you; but for plate, and glass, and china, I
think we had better wait till we return from Switzerland. We are sure to
come home through London."

Her eyes ran over a paper she was holding in her hand; while I stood
opposite to her, not knowing what to do with myself, and feeling the
guiltiest wretch alive.

"Cannot you find a seat?" she asked, after a short silence.

I sat down on the broad window-sill instead of on the chair close to
hers. She looked up at that, and fixed her eyes upon me keenly. I had
often quailed before Julia's gaze as a boy, but never as I did now.

"Well! what is it?" she asked, curtly. The incisiveness of her tone
brought life into me, as a probe sometimes brings a patient out of
stupor.

"Julia," I said, "are you quite sure you love me enough to be happy with
me as my wife?"

She opened her eyes very widely, and arched her eyebrows at the
question, laughed a little, and then drooped her head over the work in
her hands.

"Think of it well, Julia," I urged.

"I know you well enough to be as happy as the day is long with you," she
replied, the color rushing to her face. "I have no vocation for a single
life, such as so many of the girls here have to make up their minds to.
I should hate to have nothing to do and nobody to care for. Every night
and morning I thank God that he has ordained another life for me. He
knows how I love you, Martin."

"What was I to say to this? How was I to set my foot down to crush this
blooming happiness of hers?

"You do not often look as if you loved me," I said at last.

"That is only my way," she answered. "I can't be soft and p