t I?" she breathed.

Miss Belinda knitted her brows with great force, and stared severely at
the wall opposite. "I am sorry there is any question about it," she
replied.

Paula started up and looked at her with sudden determination. "Aunt,"
said she, "what is your objection to Mr. Sylvester?"

Miss Belinda shook her head, and pushing the girl gently away, hurriedly
arose and began dressing with great rapidity. Not until she was entirely
prepared for breakfast did she draw Paula to her, and prepare to answer
her question.

"My objection to him is, that I do not thoroughly understand him. I am
afraid of the skeleton in the closet, Paula. I never feel at ease when I
am with him, much as I admire his conversation and appreciate the
undoubtedly noble instincts of his heart. His brow is not open enough to
satisfy an eye which has accustomed itself to the study of human
nature."

"He has had many sorrows!" Paula faintly exclaimed, stricken by this
echo of her own doubts.

"Yes," returned her aunt, "and sorrow bows the head and darkens the eye,
but it does not make the glance wavering or its expression mysterious."

"Some sorrows might," urged Paula tremulously, arguing as much with her
own doubts as with those of her aunt. "His have been of no ordinary
nature. I have never told you, aunt, but there were circumstances
attending Cousin Ona's death that made it especially harrowing. He had a
stormy interview with her the very morning she was killed; words passed
between them, and he left her with a look that was almost desperate.
When he next saw her, she lay lifeless and inert before him. I sometimes
think that the shadow that fell upon him at that hour will never pass
away."

"Do you know what was the subject of their disagreement?" asked Miss
Belinda anxiously.

"No, but I have reason to believe it had something to do with business
affairs, as nothing else could ever arouse Cousin Ona into being at all
disagreeable."

"I don't like that phrase, _business affairs_; like charity, it covers
entirely too much. Have you never had any doubts yourself about Mr.
Sylvester?"

"Ah, you touch me to the quick, aunt. I may have had my doubts, but when
I look back on the past, I cannot see as they have any very substantial
foundation. Supposing, aunt, that he has been merely unfortunate, and I
should live to find that I had discarded one whose heart was darkened by
nothing but sorrow? I should never forgive myself, nor coul