ust the thing for a younger daughter with a
peculiar temperament.

"It is sometimes very moral to change, you know," suggested Felix.

Charlotte had softly left her sister's side. She had edged gently toward
her father, and now her hand found its way into his arm. Mr. Wentworth
had folded up the "Advertiser" into a surprisingly small compass, and,
holding the roll with one hand, he earnestly clasped it with the other.
Mr. Brand was looking at him; and yet, though Charlotte was so near, his
eyes failed to meet her own. Gertrude watched her sister.

"It is better not to speak of change," said Mr. Brand. "In one sense
there is no change. There was something I desired--something I asked of
you; I desire something still--I ask it of you." And he paused a moment;
Mr. Wentworth looked bewildered. "I should like, in my ministerial
capacity, to unite this young couple."

Gertrude, watching her sister, saw Charlotte flushing intensely, and Mr.
Wentworth felt her pressing upon his arm. "Heavenly Powers!" murmured
Mr. Wentworth. And it was the nearest approach to profanity he had ever
made.

"That is very nice; that is very handsome!" Felix exclaimed.

"I don't understand," said Mr. Wentworth; though it was plain that every
one else did.

"That is very beautiful, Mr. Brand," said Gertrude, emulating Felix.

"I should like to marry you. It will give me great pleasure."

"As Gertrude says, it 's a beautiful idea," said Felix.

Felix was smiling, but Mr. Brand was not even trying to. He himself
treated his proposition very seriously. "I have thought of it, and I
should like to do it," he affirmed.

Charlotte, meanwhile, was staring with expanded eyes. Her imagination,
as I have said, was not so rapid as her sister's, but now it had taken
several little jumps. "Father," she murmured, "consent!"

Mr. Brand heard her; he looked away. Mr. Wentworth, evidently, had no
imagination at all. "I have always thought," he began, slowly, "that
Gertrude's character required a special line of development."

"Father," repeated Charlotte, "consent."

Then, at last, Mr. Brand looked at her. Her father felt her leaning more
heavily upon his folded arm than she had ever done before; and this,
with a certain sweet faintness in her voice, made him wonder what was
the matter. He looked down at her and saw the encounter of her gaze with
the young theologian's; but even this told him nothing, and he continued
to be bewildered. Nevertheless, "I