acted from her an inviolable assurance, never to
become the wife of any individual who could not settle upon her,
subject to no contingencies or chances, the sum of at least one
thousand pounds.

Bessie, who was fancy-free, and a lively-spirited girl, by no means
relished the slights and privations which poverty entails. She
therefore willingly became bound by this solemn promise; and when her
father breathed his last, declaring that she had made his mind
comparatively easy, little Bessie half smiled, even in the midst of
her deep and natural sorrow, to think how small and easy a concession
her poor father had exacted, when her own opinions and views so
perfectly coincided with his. The orphan girl took up her abode with
the mother of David Danvers, and continued to reside with that worthy
lady until the latter's decease. It was beneath the roof of Mrs
Danvers that Bessie first became acquainted with Mr Worthington--that
acquaintance speedily ripening into a mutual and sincere attachment.
He was poor and patronless then, as he had continued ever since, with
slender likelihood of ever possessing L.100 of his own, much less
L.1000 to settle on a wife. It is true, that in the chances and
changes of this mortal life, Paul Worthington might succeed to a fine
inheritance; but there were many lives betwixt him and it, and Paul
was not the one to desire happiness at another's expense, nor was
sweet little Bessie either.

Yet was Paul Worthington rich in one inestimable possession, such as
money cannot purchase--even in the love of a pure devoted heart, which
for him, and for his dear sake, bravely endured the life-long
loneliness and isolation which their peculiar circumstances induced.
Paul did not see Bessie grow old and gray: in his eyes, she never
changed; she was to him still beautiful, graceful, and enchanting; she
was his betrothed, and he came forth into the world, from his books,
and his arduous clerical and parochial duties, to gaze at intervals
into her soft eyes, to press her tiny hand, to whisper a fond word,
and then to return to his lonely home, like a second Josiah Cargill,
to try and find in severe study oblivion of sorrow.

Annie Mortimer had been sent to him as a ministering angel: she was
the orphan and penniless daughter of Mr Worthington's dearest friend
and former college-chum, and she had come to find a shelter beneath
the humble roof of the pious guardian, to whose earthly care she had
been solemnly