eling. "I thank you for that high opinion which I believe you
entertain of me, too flattering as it may be; but cease to regret that I
have determined to live an old maid's life. To me, believe me, it has no
terrors. To single women the opportunities of doing good, of making
others happy, are more frequent than those granted to mothers and wives;
and while such is the case, is it not our own fault if we are not happy?
I own that the life of solitude which an old maid's includes, may, if
the heart be so inclined, be equally productive of selfishness,
moroseness of temper, and obstinacy in opinion and judgment, but most
fervently I trust such will never be my attributes. It can never be
while my beloved aunt and uncle are spared to me, which I trust they
will be for many, many years longer; and even should they be removed
before I anticipate, I have so many to love me, so many to dearly love,
that I can have no time, no room for selfishness."

"Do not mistake me, Ellen," St. Eval replied, earnestly; "I do not wish
to see you married because I dread your becoming like some single women;
with your principles such can never be. Your society--your influence
over the minds of our children--is far too precious to be lightly wished
removed, as it would be were you to marry. It is for your own sake,
dearest Ellen, I regret it, and for the sake of him you might select,
that you, who are so fitted to enjoy and to fulfil them, can never know
the pleasures attendant on the duties of a happy wife and mother; that
by a husband and child, the dearest ties of earth, you will go down to
the grave unloved."

"You are right, St. Eval, they are the dearest ties on earth; but
pleasures, the pleasures of affection, too, are yet left to us, who may
never know them. Think you not, that to feel it is my place to cheer and
soothe the declining years of those dear and tender guardians of my
infancy must bring with it enjoyment--to see myself welcomed by smiles
of love and words of kindness by all my brothers and sisters--to see
their children flock around me as I enter, each seeking to be the first
to obtain my smile or kiss--to know myself of service to my
fellow-creatures, I mean not in my own rank, but those beneath me--to
feel conscious that in every event of life, particularly in sickness or
in sorrow, if those I so love require my presence, or I feel I may give
them comfort or sympathy, at least I may fly to them, for I shall have
no tie, no