e him better than anyone else in all the
world. I feel that I can promise to be his wife without the least
reserve or fear. I don't know why it should be so; but it is. I
know I am right in this." Aunt Sarah still stood silent, meditating.
"Don't you think I was right, feeling as I do, to tell him so? I had
before become certain, quite, quite certain that it was impossible to
give any other answer but one to Mr. Gilmore. Dearest aunt, do speak
to me."

"I do not know what you will have to live upon."

"It is settled, you know, that he will save four or five thousand
pounds out of his money, and I have got twelve hundred. It is not
much, but it will be just something. Of course he will remain in the
army, and I shall be a soldier's wife. I shall think nothing of going
out to India, if he wishes it; but I don't think he means that. Dear
Aunt Sarah, do say one word of congratulation."

Aunt Sarah did not know how to congratulate her niece. It seemed to
her that any congratulation must be false and hypocritical. To her
thinking, it would be a most unfitting match. It seemed to her that
such an engagement had been most foolish. She was astonished at
Mary's weakness, and was indignant with Walter Marrable. As regarded
Mary, though she had twice uttered a word or two, intended as a
caution, yet she had never thought it possible that a girl so steady
in her ordinary demeanour, so utterly averse to all flirtation, so
little given to the weakness of feminine susceptibility, would fall
at once into such a quagmire of indiscreet love-troubles. The caution
had been intended, rather in regard to outward appearances, and
perhaps with the view of preventing the possibility of some slight
heart-scratches, than with the idea that danger of this nature was to
be dreaded. As Mr. Gilmore was there as an acknowledged suitor,--a
suitor, as to whose ultimate success Aunt Sarah had her strong
opinions,--it would be well those cousinly-brotherly associations
and confidences should not become so close as to create possible
embarrassment. Such had been the nature of Aunt Sarah's caution; and
now,--in the course of a week or two,--when the young people were
in truth still strangers to each other,--when Mr. Gilmore was still
waiting for his answer,--Mary came to her, and told her that the
engagement was a thing completed! How could she utter a word of
congratulation?

"You mean, then, to say that you disapprove of it?" said Mary, almost
sternl