y reverent awe and
obedience towards her cousin.

When they met, he scanned her looks with a bright, tender glance, and
smiled commendation when he detected no air of sleeplessness. He talked
and moved as though his secret were one of untold bliss, and this was not
far from the truth; for when, after breakfast, he asked her for another
interview in the study, they were no sooner alone than he rubbed his
hands together with satisfaction, saying--'So, Honor, you could have had
me after all!' looking at her with a broad, undisguised, exulting smile.

'Oh! Humfrey!'

'Don't say it if you don't like it; but you can't guess the pleasure it
gives me. I could hardly tell at first what was making me so happy when
I awoke this morning.'

'I can't see how it should,' said Honor, her eyes swimming with tears,
'never to have met with any gratitude for--I have used you too ill--never
valued, scarcely even believed in what you lavished on poor silly me--and
now, when all is too late, you are glad--'

'Glad! of course I am,' returned Humfrey; 'I never wished to obtrude my
feelings on you after I knew how it stood with you. It would have been a
shame. Your choice went far above me. For the rest, if to find you
disposed towards me at the last makes me so happy,' and he looked at her
again with beaming affection, 'how could I have borne to leave you if all
had been as I wished? No, no, it is best as it is. You lose nothing in
position, and you are free to begin the world again, not knocked down or
crushed.'

'Don't talk so, Humfrey! It is breaking my heart to think that I might
have been making you happy all this time.'

'Heaven did not will it so,' said Humfrey, reverently, 'and it might not
have proved what we fancy. You might not have found such a clodhopper
all you wanted, and my stupidity might have vexed you, though now you
fancy otherwise. And I have had a very happy life--indeed I have, Honor;
I never knew the time when I could not say with all my heart, "The lot is
fallen unto me in a fair ground, yea, I have a goodly heritage."
Everybody and everything, you and all the rest, have been very kind and
friendly, and I have never wanted for happiness. It has been all right.
You could fulfil your duty as a daughter undividedly, and now I trust
those children will be your object and comfort--only, Honor, not your
idols. Perhaps it was jealousy, but I have sometimes fancied that your
tendency with their father--'