ately to be easily pleased by any girl; and, almost
unawares to herself, she had been in the habit of comparing her own
attractions and loveliness with those of the younger women who crossed
his path. Yet there was no personal vanity in the calm conviction she
possessed that Felix had never seen a woman more beautiful and
fascinating than the mother he had always admired with so much
enthusiasm.

She was not jealous of Alice Pascal, she said to herself, and yet her
heart was sore when she said it. Why could not Felix remain simply
constant to her? He was the only being she had ever really loved; and
her love for him was deeper than she had known it to be. Yet to crush
his hopes, to wound him, would be like the bitterness of death to her.
If she could but let him marry his Alice, how much easier it would be
than throwing obstacles in the way of his happiness; obstacles that
would seem but the weak and wilful caprices of a foolish mother.

When the morning came, and Canon Pascal made his appearance, Felicita
received him in her library, apparently composed, but grave and almost
stern in her manner. They were old friends; but the friendship on his
side was warm and genial, while on hers it was cold and reserved. He
lost no time in beginning on the subject which had brought him to her.

"My dear Felicita," he said, "Felix tells me he had some talk with you
last night. What do you think of our young people?"

"What does Alice say?" she asked.

"Oh, Alice!" he answered in an amused yet tender tone; "she would be of
one mind with Felix. There is something beautiful in the innocent,
unworldly love of children like these, who are ready to build a nest
under any eaves. Felicita, you do not disapprove of it?"

"I cannot disapprove of Alice," she replied gloomily; "but I do
disapprove of Felix marrying so young. A man should not marry under
thirty."

"Thirty!" echoed Canon Pascal; "that would be in seven years. It is a
long time; but if they do not object I should not. I'm in no hurry to
lose my daughter. But they will not wait so long."

"Do not let them be engaged yet," she said in hurried and sad tones.
"They may see others whom they would love more. Early marriages and long
engagements are both bad. Tell them from me that it is better for them
to be free a while longer, till they know themselves and the world
better. I would rather Felix and Hilda never married. When I see Phebe
so free from all the gnawing cares and a