true. As quick as lightning
these thoughts passed through her mind, and, apparently without a pause,
she went on, "And now, as to Enderby--is he worthy to be this happy
husband? Does he deserve her?"

Mr Hope did pause before he replied:

"I think we had better dwell as little as we can on that point of the
story--not because I am afraid--(do not take fright and suppose I mean
more than I say)--not because I am afraid, but because we can do
nothing, discern nothing, about it. Time must show what Enderby is--or
rather, what he has the power of becoming. Meanwhile, the thing is
settled. They love and have promised, and are happy. Let us shun all
comparison of the one with the other of them, and hope everything from
him."

"There will be some amusement," said Hester, after a smiling reverie,
"in having this secret to ourselves for a time, while all the rest of
Deerbrook is so busy with a different idea and expectation. How _will_
Mrs Rowland bear it?"

"Mrs Grey might have said that," said Hope, laughing.

"Well, but is it not true? Will it not be very amusing to see the
circulation of stories about Miss Bruce, given `from the best
authority,' and to have all manner of news told us about Philip; and to
watch how Mrs Rowland will get out of the scrape she is in? Surely,
Edward, you are not above being amused with all this?"

"I shall be best pleased when it is all over. I have lived some years
longer than you in Deerbrook, and have had more time to get tired of its
mysteries and mistakes."

"For your comfort, then, it cannot be long before all is open and
rightly understood. We need only leave Mrs Rowland time to extricate
herself, I suppose. I wonder how she will manage it."

"We shall be taken by surprise with some clever device, I dare say. It
is a pity so much ingenuity should be wasted on mischief."

CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN.

A MORNING IN MARCH.

Margaret was as calm as she appeared to be. To a nature like hers,
blissful repose was congenial, and anxiety both appeared and felt
unnatural. In her there was no weak wonder that Providence had blessed
her as she felt she was blessed. While she suffered, she concluded with
certainty that the suffering was for some good purpose; but no degree of
happiness took her by surprise, or seemed other than a natural influence
shed by the great Parent into the souls of his children. She had of
late been fearfully shaken,--not in her faith, but in her ser