t to creep by my side upon the earth,--what cannot such a
woman do for a man!

"What! cast away the flower I took in the bud because it does not show
as I hoped it would when it opened? I will stand by my word; I will be
all as a man that I promised as a boy. Thank God, she is true and
pure and sweet. My nest will be a peaceful one; but I must take wing
alone,--alone."

He drew one long sigh, and the cloud passed from his countenance. He
must answer that letter now, at once. There were reasons, he thought,
which made it important. And so, with the cheerfulness which it was
kind and becoming to show, so far as possible, and yet with a little
excitement on one particular point, which was the cause of his writing
so promptly, he began his answer.

ALDERBANK, Thursday morning, June 16, 1859.

MY DEAR SUSIE,--I have just been reading your pleasant letter; and if
I do not send you the poem you ask for so eloquently, I will give you a
little bit of advice, which will do just as well,--won't it, my dear?
I was interested in your account of various things going on at Oxbow
Village. I am very glad you find young Mr. Hopkins so agreeable a
friend. His poetry is better than some which I see printed in the
village papers, and seems generally unexceptionable in its subjects and
tone. I do not believe he is a dangerous companion, though the habit of
writing verse does not always improve the character. I think I have seen
it make more than one of my acquaintances idle, conceited, sentimental,
and frivolous,--perhaps it found them so already. Don't make too much
of his talent, and particularly don't let him think that because he can
write verses he has nothing else to do in this world. That is for his
benefit, dear, and you must skilfully apply it.

Now about yourself. My dear Susie, there was something in your letter
that did not please me. You speak of a visit from the Rev. Mr. Stoker,
and of his kind, brotherly treatment, his cordiality of behavior, and
his asking you to visit him in his study. I am very glad to hear you say
that you "don't seem to like him." He is very familiar, it seems to me,
for so new an acquaintance. What business had he to be laying his hand
on your shoulder? I should like to see him try these free-and-easy ways
in my presence! He would not have taken that liberty, my dear! No, he
was alone with you, and thought it safe to be disrespectfully familiar.
I want you to maintain your dignity always with such p