at deal more grizzled than my father, who is past fifty.
He is very particular about all sorts of things, as I suppose he has to
be, as he is a Colonel of infantry. Nobody could possibly disapprove of
my present performances more than he would.' I could not help
ejaculating, 'Why, then, do you marry him?' She smiled at my
earnestness. 'Oh, that is all arranged,' she said, 'and I have nothing
to do with it. I have known for more than a year that I'm to marry
Colonel Kaldhein, but I cannot say that I have given myself much concern
about it until recently. It now occurs to me that if I expect to amuse
myself in the way I best like I must lose no time doing so.' I looked at
the girl with earnest interest. 'It appears to me,' said I, 'that your
ways of amusing yourself are very much like mine.'--'That is true,' she
said, looking up with animation, 'they are. Is it not delightful to be
free, to go where you like, and do what you please, without any one to
advise or interfere with you?'--'It is delightful,' said I; and for half
an hour we sat and talked about these delights and kindred subjects. She
was much interested in our castle, and urged me to make a sketch of it,
so that she may know what it now looked like. She had seen it when a
little girl, but never since, and had been afraid to wander very far in
this direction by herself. I told her that it would be far better for
her to see the castle with her own eyes, and that I could conduct her to
an eminence, not half a mile away, where she could have an excellent
view of it. This plan greatly pleased her; but looking at her watch she
said that it would be too late for her to go that morning, but if I
happened to come that way the next day, and she should be there to
finish her sketch, she would be delighted to have me show her the
eminence."

"I think," interrupted Aunt Martha, "that she was a very imprudent young
woman."

"That may be," he replied, "but you must remember, madam, that up to
this time the young lady had been subjected to the most conventional
trammels, and that her young nature had just burst out into temporary
freedom and true life. It was the caged bird's flight into the bright
summer air."

"Just the kind of birds," said Aunt Martha, "that shouldn't be allowed
to fly, at least until they are used to it. But you can go on with your
story."

"Well," said the young man, "the next day we met I took her to the
piece of high ground I had mentioned, and she