and never had such a thought, I am certain."

"When I married you, Grantley, your sister became mine--I could not be
more anxious for her, more willing to guard and cherish her, if she had
been a legacy from my own dead mother, than I am now."

"I am certain of that, and I love and honor you for it. But in your
place I should perhaps be annoyed even to have a sister share affection
with me."

"It is not like your love for me?"

"No, no; no love could be like that! But Elsie is such a child, such a
happy, innocent creature, and I never look at her without remembering my
dying mother's last words. If any harm came to her, Bessie, I think I
could not even venture to meet that lost mother in heaven."

"No harm will come to her, Grantley--none shall!"

"I think she is one of those creatures born to be happy; I trust she may
never have a great trial in all her life. I don't believe she could
endure it; she would fade like a flower."

"It is impossible to tell how any one would receive suffering,"
Elizabeth replied; "sometimes those very fragile natures are best able
to bear up, and find an elasticity which prevents sorrow taking deep
root."

"It may be so; but I could not bear to have any pain come near her--It
would strike my own heart."

"Could any one be more light-hearted and careless than she is?"

"Oh, she is happy as a bird--only let us keep her so."

Even into the utmost sacredness of their affection, that sister's image
must be brought--it did cause Elizabeth pain in spite of all her
denials--Mellen might have discovered that if he had seen her face. But
the feeling passed swiftly, the face cleared, and while it brightened
under his loving words the strength of a great resolution settled down
upon it.

They sat in that old fashioned room talking for a long time. It was the
happiest, most peaceful day they had spent since Mellen's return.

After a time, Mellen proposed that they should go out to ride, for the
afternoon was sunny and delightful.

"A long gallop over the hills will do you good," he said; "it is a shame
to spend such weather in the house."

While he ordered the horses, Elizabeth went up to her dressing-room to
put on her habit.

She dressed herself without assistance, and with a feverish haste which
brought the color to her face and light to her eyes.

"I will be happy," she muttered; "I will not think. There is no looking
back now; it is too late; only let me keep the past shut clos