om society, she became silent and sad. In view of
approaching death, she often lamented that she could not see her
daughter well married before she left the world. An offer which Jane
received from a very honest, industrious, and thrifty jeweler, aroused
anew a mother's maternal solicitude.

"Why," she exclaimed, with melancholy earnestness, "will you reject
this young man? He has an amiable disposition, and high reputation for
integrity and sobriety. He is already in easy circumstances, and is in
a fair way of soon acquiring a brilliant fortune. He knows that you
have a superior mind. He professes great esteem for you, and will be
proud of following your advice. You might lead him in any way you
like."

"But, my dear mother, I do not want a husband who is to be led. He
would be too cumbersome a child for me to take care of."

"Do you know that you are a very whimsical girl, my child? And how do
you think you would like a husband who was your master and tyrant?"

"I certainly," Jane replied, "should not like a man who assumed airs
of authority, for that would only provoke me to resist. But I am sure
that I could never love a husband whom it was necessary for me to
govern. I should be ashamed of my own power."

"I understand you, Jane. You would like to have a man _think_ himself
the master, while he obeyed you in every particular."

"No, mother, it is not that either. I hate servitude; but empire would
only embarrass me. I wish to gain the affections of a man who would
make his happiness consist in contributing to mine, as his good sense
and regard for me should dictate."

"But, my daughter, there would be hardly such a thing in the world as
a happy couple, if happiness could not exist without that perfect
congeniality of taste and opinions which you imagine to be so
necessary."

"I do not know, mother, of a single person whose happiness I envy."

"Very well; but among those matches which you do not envy, there may
be some far preferable to remaining always single. I may be called out
of the world sooner than you imagine. Your father is still young. I
can not tell you all the disagreeable things my fondness for you makes
me fear. I should be indeed happy, could I see you united to some
worthy man before I die."

This was the first time that the idea of her mother's death ever
seriously entered the mind of Jane. With an eager gaze, she fixed her
eye upon her pale and wasted cheek and her emaciate frame, and t