ove her,
although you respect, and admire, and esteem her: granted, but on such
feelings toward a woman is the firmest love based, and must eventually
grow. Depend upon it, Tom, that that hasty and violent attachment which
is usually termed love, and which so blinds both parties that they
cannot before marriage perceive each other's faults, those matches which
are called love matches, seldom or ever turn out happily. I do not mean
to say but that they sometimes do; but, like a lottery, there are many
blanks for one prize. Believe me, Tom, there is no one who has your
interest and welfare at heart more than I have. I have known you since
you were a child, and have watched you with as much solicitude as any
parent. Do you think, then, that I would persuade you to what I thought
would not contribute to your happiness? Do, my dear boy, make Bramble,
Bessy, yourself, and all of us happy, by weaning yourself from the
memory of one who was undeserving of you, and fixing your affections
upon her who will be as steadfast and as true to you as the other was
false and capricious."

I promised Anderson that I would think seriously of what he said; and I
kept my word, using all my endeavors to drive the image of Janet from my
memory, and substitute that of Bessy. I often recalled the latter to my
mind as she lay, beautiful and motionless, after having rescued her
father from the waves, and at last dwelt upon the image with something
more than interest. The great point when you wish to bring yourself to
do anything is to make up your mind to it. I did so, and soon found that
Bessy was rapidly gaining possession of my heart.

I remained several days at Greenwich. My mother was still as busy as
ever, attempting to obtain lodgers in her house who were people of
family; and this unwearied system was a source of great vexation to my
sister. "Oh, Tom," she would sometimes say, "I almost wish sometimes,
selfish as it is, that you were married to Bessy, for then I should be
able to live with you, and escape from this persecution."

"Better marry yourself, dear," replied I.

"There is but little chance of that, Tom," replied Virginia, shaking her
head.

On my return to Deal I found that Bramble had remained at the cottage
ever since my departure. Our greeting was warm, and when I went over to
Bessy, for the first time since she had returned from school, I kissed
her. She colored up, poor girl, burst into tears, and hastened to her
own r