he model for
a husband. For such a one she would read his blue books, copy his
pamphlets, and learn his translations by heart. She would be safe in
the hands of such a man, and would know nothing of the miseries which
her brother had encountered. Her model may not appear, when thus
described, to be a very noble one; but I think it is the model most
approved among ladies of her class in England.

She made up her mind on various points during those two hours of
solitude. In the first place, she would of course keep her purpose of
returning home on the following day. It was not probable that Captain
Aylmer would ask her to change it; but let him ask ever so much it
must not be changed. She must at once have the pleasure of telling
her father that all his trouble about her would now be over; and
then, there was the consideration that her further sojourn in the
house, with Captain Aylmer as her lover, would hardly be more proper
than it would have been had he not occupied that position. And what
was she to say if he pressed her as to the time of their marriage?
Her aunt's death would of course be a sufficient reason why it should
be delayed for some few months; and, upon the whole, she thought it
would be best to postpone it till the next session of Parliament
should have nearly expired. But she would be prepared to yield to
Captain Aylmer, should he name any time after Easter. It was clearly
his intention to keep up the house in Perivale as his country
residence. She did not like Perivale or the house, but she would
say nothing against such an arrangement. Indeed, with what face
could she do so? She was going to bring nothing to the common
account,--absolutely nothing but herself! As she thought of this her
love grew warmer, and she hardly knew how sufficiently to testify to
herself her own gratitude and affection.

She became conscious, as she was preparing herself for dinner, of
some special attention to her toilet. She was more than ordinarily
careful with her hair, and felt herself to be aware of an anxiety to
look her best. She had now been for some time so accustomed to dress
herself in black, that in that respect her aunt's death had made no
difference to her. Deep mourning had ceased from habit to impress her
with any special feeling of funereal solemnity. But something about
herself, or in the room, at last struck her with awe, bidding her
remember how death had of late been busy among those who had been her
dea