t young man," she replied.

My heart gave a bound. Her remarks before had been rather in the form
of criticisms than regular objections. I laid down my work with the
resolve to throw myself on her mercy.

"Aunt Helen, why is it that all of you are so opposed to Mr. Dale?"

"Opposed! Well, dear, I should hardly call it that," said my aunt. "Your
father has an idea, I believe, that Mr. Dale is mercenary in his views.
What foundation for it he may have I do not know. As for myself, I
cannot say I am opposed, for I scarcely know the young man."

"My father is very unjust," I said with tears in my eyes.

"It may be, dear. Very likely he would own himself that it was merely an
impression; but it is only right that he should watch over your
interests carefully."

"Is it watching over my interests to cast suspicion on the motives of
one of my best friends?"

"It will all come right in the end, dear."

"He is noble and high-minded. No one shall say anything against him in
my presence," I cried fiercely.

My aunt smoothed out the lap of her dress reflectively. "You are quite
justified in standing up for your friend, Virginia. No one can blame
you for that. I have no doubt this young Dale is all you describe him to
be. Only," she added, with an apologetic cough, "be discreet. Some
persons, perhaps, would wish to be better informed before ceasing to
feel uneasy. I believe, though, in trusting to a girl's own instinct in
these matters: it rarely goes astray. If my parents had followed that
course, I might have been more happy."

She raised her handkerchief to her eyes to stay a tear, and with an
impulse of gratitude and pity I went to her and kissed her.

"Yes," she murmured, acknowledging my sympathy with a pressure of the
hand, "when I was just about your age there was a young man who was very
fond of me, and I liked him. He wished to marry me."

"And your father objected to him?"

"He thought we were too young. He insisted upon our waiting until we had
more money. So we did, and he fell into bad habits, and--and we drifted
apart. It is a long story."

"Oh, Aunt Helen, I am very sorry."

"Thank you, dear. I should never have told you except to show that I
could sympathize with you. Only, as I have said, be discreet. It is a
serious responsibility for me to assume. I hope you will take no
decisive steps without consulting your father. Kiss me, Virginia."

We embraced with fervor, and I was sure that I had gained