on--but I am ambitious for you, Traverse! I would have your
motto be, 'Excelsior!'--higher!" said the doctor's daughter.

"And you, dear Clara, may I venture to hope that you do not disapprove
of your father's choice, or reject the hand that he permits me to offer
you?" said Traverse, for though he understood Clara well enough, yet
like all honest men, he wanted some definite and practical engagement.

"There is my hand--my heart was yours long ago," murmured the maiden, in
a tremulous voice.

He took and pressed that white hand to his heart, looked hesitatingly
and pleadingly in her face for an instant, and then, drawing her gently
to his bosom, sealed their betrothal on her pure lips.

Then they sat side by side, and hand in hand, in a sweet silence for a
few moments, and then Clara said:

"You have not told your mother yet! Go and tell her, Traverse; it will
make her so happy! And Traverse, I will be a daughter to her, while you
are gone. Tell her that, too."

"Dear girl, you have always been as kind and loving to my mother as it
was possible to be. How can you ever be more so than you have been?"

"I shall find a way!" smiled Clara.

Again he pressed her hand to his heart and to his lips, and left the
room to find his mother. He had a search before he discovered her at
last in the drawing-room, arranging it for their evening fireside
gathering.

"Come, mother, and sit down by me on this sofa, for I have glorious
tidings for your ear! Dear Clara sent me from her own side to tell you!"

"Ah, still thinking--always thinking, madly thinking of the doctor's
daughter! Poor, poor boy!" said Mrs. Rocke.

"Yes, and always intend to think of her to the very end of my life, and
beyond, if possible! But come, dear mother, and hear me explain!" said
Traverse, and as soon as Mrs. Rocke had taken the indicated seat,
Traverse commenced and related to her the substance of the conversation
between the doctor and himself in the library, in which the former
authorized his addresses to his daughter, and also his own subsequent
explanation and engagement with Clara.

Mrs. Rocke listened to all this, in unbroken silence, and when, at
length, Traverse had concluded his story, she clasped her hands and
raised her eyes, uttering fervent thanksgivings to the fountain of all
mercies.

"You do not congratulate me, dear mother."

"Oh, Traverse, I am returning thanks to heaven on your behalf! Oh, my
son! my son; but that such thi