gentlemen at the door
early in the forenoon, Mistress Kitty Fagan could not guess. Something
relating to Miss Myrtle, no doubt: she wasn't goin' to be married right
off to Mr. Clement,--was she,--and no church, nor cake, nor anything?
The gentlemen were shown into the parlor. "Ask Miss Withers to go into
the library, Kitty," said Master Gridley. "Dr. Pemberton wishes to speak
with her." The good old man was prepared for a scene with Miss Silence.
He announced to her, in a kind and delicate way, that she must make up
her mind to the disappointment of certain expectations which she had
long entertained, and which, as her lawyer, Mr. Penhallow, had come to
inform her and others, were to be finally relinquished from this hour.

To his great surprise, Miss Silence received this communication almost
cheerfully. It seemed more like a relief to her than anything else. Her
one dread in this world was her "responsibility"; and the thought that
she might have to account for ten talents hereafter, instead of one, had
often of late been a positive distress to her. There was also in her
mind a secret disgust at the thought of the hungry creatures who would
swarm round her if she should ever be in a position to bestow patronage.
This had grown upon her as the habits of lonely life gave her more and
more of that fastidious dislike to males in general, as such, which is
not rare in maidens who have seen the roses of more summers than
politeness cares to mention.

Father Pemberton then asked if he could see Miss Myrtle Hazard a few
moments in the library before they went into the parlor, where they were
to meet Mr. Penhallow and Mr. Gridley, for the purpose of receiving the
lawyer's communication.

What change was this which Myrtle had undergone since love had touched
her heart, and her visions of worldly enjoyment had faded before the
thought of sharing and ennobling the life of one who was worthy of her
best affections,--of living for another, and of finding her own noblest
self in that divine office of woman? She had laid aside the bracelet
which she had so long worn as a kind of charm as well as an ornament.
One would have said her features had lost something of that look of
imperious beauty which had added to her resemblance to the dead woman
whose glowing portrait hung upon her wall. And if it could be that,
after so many generations, the blood of her who had died for her faith
could show in her descendant's veins, and the soul