me other
views and nobler aims. And the very idea of having you to care for under
my roof would force me to moderate my expenses and live like a
Christian--not to speak of all the prudence and virtue you would instil
into my mind by your wise counsels and sweet, attractive goodness.'

'But it is not that,' said I; 'it is not money my aunt thinks about. She
knows better than to value worldly wealth above its price.'

'What is it, then?'

'She wishes me to--to marry none but a really good man.'

'What, a man of "decided piety"?--ahem!--Well, come, I'll manage that
too! It's Sunday to-day, isn't it? I'll go to church morning,
afternoon, and evening, and comport myself in such a godly sort that she
shall regard me with admiration and sisterly love, as a brand plucked
from the burning. I'll come home sighing like a furnace, and full of the
savour and unction of dear Mr. Blatant's discourse--'

'Mr. Leighton,' said I, dryly.

'Is Mr. Leighton a "sweet preacher," Helen--a "dear, delightful,
heavenly-minded man"?'

'He is a good man, Mr. Huntingdon. I wish I could say half as much for
you.'

'Oh, I forgot, you are a saint, too. I crave your pardon, dearest--but
don't call me Mr. Huntingdon; my name is Arthur.'

'I'll call you nothing--for I'll have nothing at all to do with you if
you talk in that way any more. If you really mean to deceive my aunt as
you say, you are very wicked; and if not, you are very wrong to jest on
such a subject.'

'I stand corrected,' said he, concluding his laugh with a sorrowful sigh.
'Now,' resumed he, after a momentary pause, 'let us talk about something
else. And come nearer to me, Helen, and take my arm; and then I'll let
you alone. I can't be quiet while I see you walking there.'

I complied; but said we must soon return to the house.

'No one will be down to breakfast yet, for long enough,' he answered.
'You spoke of your guardians just now, Helen, but is not your father
still living?'

'Yes, but I always look upon my uncle and aunt as my guardians, for they
are so in deed, though not in name. My father has entirely given me up
to their care. I have never seen him since dear mamma died, when I was a
very little girl, and my aunt, at her request, offered to take charge of
me, and took me away to Staningley, where I have remained ever since; and
I don't think he would object to anything for me that she thought proper
to sanction.'

'But would he sanction anything to