ng life
such as yours should be given. Though he should be unkind to you,
though money should be scarce with you, though the ordinary troubles
of the world should come upon you, they will be better for you than
the ease I might have prepared for you. It will be nearer to human
nature. I, at any rate, shall be here if troubles come; or if I am
gone, that will remain which relieves troubles. You can go now and
write your letter."

She could not speak a word as she left the room. It was not only
that her throat was full of sobs, but that her heart was laden with
mingled joy and sorrow, so that she could not find a word to express
herself. She went to her bedroom and took out her letter-case to do
as he had bidden her;--but she found that she could not write. This
letter should be one so framed as to make John Gordon joyful; but it
would be impossible to bring her joy so to the surface as to satisfy
him even with contentment. She could only think how far it might yet
be possible to sacrifice herself and him. She sat thus an hour, and
then went back, and, hearing voices, descended to the drawing-room.
There she found Mr Blake and Kattie Forrester and Evelina Hall. They
had come to call upon Mr Whittlestaff and herself, and were full of
their own news. "Oh, Miss Lawrie, what do you think?" said Mr Blake.
Miss Lawrie, however, could not think, nor could Mr Whittlestaff.
"Think of whatever is the greatest joy in the world," said Mr Blake.

"Don't make yourself such a goose," said Kattie Forrester.

"Oh, but I am in earnest. The greatest joy in all the world."

"I suppose you mean you're going to be married," said Mr
Whittlestaff.

"Exactly. How good you are at guessing! Kattie has named the day.
This day fortnight. Oh dear, isn't it near?"

"If you think so, it shall be this day fortnight next year," said
Kattie.

"Oh dear no! I didn't mean that at all. It can't be too near. And you
couldn't put it off now, you know, because the Dean has been bespoke.
It is a good thing to have the Dean to fasten the knot. Don't you
think so, Miss Lawrie?"

"I suppose one clergyman is just the same as another," said Mary.

"So I tell him. It will all be one twenty years hence. After all, the
Dean is an old frump, and papa does not care a bit about him."

"But how are you to manage with Mr Newface?" asked Mr Whittlestaff.

"That's the best part of it all. Mr Hall is such a brick, that when
we come back from the Isle of Wight he is