y after a cousinly
sort, he believed she loved him. The thought _did_ come into his mind
sometimes whether his cousin was all to him that a woman might be, but
never painfully. He did not doubt that, as years went on, they would be
very happy together after a quiet, rational fashion, and he smiled, now
and then, at the fading remembrance of many a boyish dream as to how his
wife was to be wooed and won.

He was happy--they were all happy; and the tide of events flowed quietly
on the the night when Allan clasped the trembling hand of Graeme
Elliott. Indeed, it flowed quietly on long after that, for in the charm
that, night after night, drew him into the happy circle of the Elliotts,
he recognised only the pleasure that the renewal of old friendships and
the awakening of old associations gave him. The pleasure which his
cousin took in the society of these young people was scarcely less than
his own. Around the heiress and only child of Mr Elphinstone there
soon gathered a brilliant circle of admirers, the greater part of whom
would hardly have recognised the Elliotts as worthy of sharing the
honour with them. But there was to the young girl, who had neither
brother nor sister, something better than brilliancy or fashion in
Graeme's quiet parlour. The mutual love and confidence that made their
home so happy, filled her with wonder and delight, and there were few
days, for several pleasant months, in which they did not meet.

The pleasant intercourse was good for Lilias. She brightened under it
wonderfully, and grew into a very different creature from the pale,
quiet, little girl, who used to sit so gravely at her father's side.
Her father saw the change and rejoiced over it, and though at first he
was not inclined to be pleased with the intimacy that had sprung up so
suddenly, he could not but confess that the companionship of one like
Rose Elliott must be good for her. Graeme he seldom saw. The long
morning calls, and spending of days with her friend, which were Rosie's
delight, Graeme seldom shared. But she was quite as much the friend of
Lilias as was her livelier sister, and never did his cousin seem so
beautiful to Allan, never was she so dear, as when, with pretty
willfulness; she hung about Graeme, claiming a right to share with Rose
the caresses or gentle reproofs of the elder sister. He did not think
of danger to himself in the intercourse which Lilias shared so happily.
He was content with the presen