you miserable, my own," replied
her mother, soothingly. "But you will love him, my Emmeline, you will
love him as he loves you; his fond affection cannot fail to make you
happy. You will learn to know him--to value his noble virtues, his
honourable principles. As his wife, new pleasures, new duties will be
around you. Health will return, and I shall see my Emmeline once more as
she was--my own happy child."

"And has it indeed gone so far that both you and my father have
consented, and I must disobey and displease my parents, or be miserable
for life?"

"My child," said Mrs. Hamilton, so solemnly, that Emmeline involuntarily
checked her tears, "my child, you shall never marry the husband we have
chosen for you, unless you can love and be happy with him: sacredly and
irrevocably I promise this. You shall not sacrifice yourself for a
doubtful duty. If, when you have seen and known him, your wishes still
are contrary to ours, we will not demand your obedience. If you still
prefer your mother's home, never, never shall you go from me. Be
comforted, my Emmeline,--do not weep thus. Will you not trust me? If
you cannot love, you shall not marry."

"But, my father--oh, mamma, will he too promise me this?"

"Yes, love; doubt him not," and a smile so cheering, so happy, was round
Mrs. Hamilton's lips as she spoke, that Emmeline unconsciously felt
relieved. "We only wish our Emmeline's consent to an introduction to
this estimable young man, who has so long and so faithfully loved her,
and if still she is inexorable we must submit. Could I send you from me
without your free consent? Could I part from you except for happiness?"

Emmeline threw her arms round her mother's neck. In vain she struggled
to ask who was the young man of whom her mother spoke. Why should she
inquire, when she felt that he never, never could be anything to her?
Bitterly, painfully she struggled to dismiss the thought hastily from
her mind, and gladly hailed the entrance of the nurse with her little
nephew as a relief. Her mother joined her in caressing and playing with
him, and ere he was dismissed the scattered parties had returned, and
there was no opportunity for farther confidential converse.

It was a happy, merry party at Oakwood, but the presence of Lilla
Grahame was wanting to make it complete. Ellen was constantly with her,
for she would not permit the lively proceedings of home to interfere
with the call of friendship; and in this task of kin