m in no mood to cavil at
love."

Mrs. Lang said, kindly,--

"We must see more of you than ever, Mr. Allen, if you are finally to
deprive us of Miss Darry. She has lived with me ever since the death of
her parents, who were old friends of my mother, and we shall miss her
very much. She is a splendid woman. You are sure you understand her?"
she added, naively; "I freely confess I don't."

My pride swelled at all this. Frank Darry's love was the most blissful
proof yet afforded of the personal power of the man who had captivated
her, and more vehemently than was perhaps natural under the
circumstances, I professed to comprehend, love, nay, worship Miss Darry.

The efforts for my culture were now redoubled. In order to demonstrate
the wisdom of Miss Darry's choice, I must give palpable proof of
superiority. I had earned enough for present support, and my forge must
be given up. I must cut off all my old connections, go to the city,
visit studios, draw from casts, attend galleries of paintings, have
access to public libraries, make literary and artistic acquaintances,
pursue my classical studies, and display the powers which Miss Darry, by
her own force of will, projected into me. Such were the business-like
plans which usurped the place of those mutual adulatory confidences
presumed to occupy the first elysian hours of an engagement. Miss
Darry's love was not of that caressing, tendril description, so common
with her sex, which plays in tender demonstrativeness around the one
beloved; it helped constantly to keep the highest standard before him,
and to sustain rather than depend.

About a week after Mr. and Mrs. Lang's return, Mr. Leopold, who had
accompanied them, came back; and Miss Darry intimated that it would be
well for me to inform him of our engagement. I said to him, therefore,
rather abruptly one afternoon, as I was about leaving to seek Miss
Darry, (who was never quite ready to see me, if my painting-hours were
abridged,)--

"Mr. Leopold, I have sold my forge to-day. I wanted to ask your advice
about the course to be pursued in town; but I am under orders now of the
most binding kind, I am engaged to Miss Darry."

Mr. Leopold was busy at his easel, his profile toward me. I was
certainly not mistaken; the blood rushed over his face, subsided,
leaving it very pale, and he made a quick, nervous movement which
overthrew his palette. He rose quietly and replaced it, however, saying,
in his usual tone,--

"V