know all my thoughts and wishes as they regard you."

"Dear papa!"

"To see you happy--you and Augustus and Isabella--that is now
our happiness; not to see you rich or great. High position and a
plentiful income are great blessings in this world, so that they be
achieved without a stain. But even in this world they are not the
greatest blessings. There are things much sweeter than them." As he
said this, Madeline did not attempt to answer him, but she put her
arm once more within his, and clung to his side.

"Money and rank are only good, if every step by which they are gained
be good also. I should never blush to see my girl the wife of a poor
man whom she loved; but I should be stricken to the core of my heart
if I knew that she had become the wife of a rich man whom she did not
love."

"Papa!" she said, clinging to him. She had meant to assure him that
that sorrow should never be his, but she could not get beyond the one
word.

"If you love this man, let him come," said the judge, carried by his
feelings somewhat beyond the point to which he had intended to go.
"I know no harm of him. I know nothing but good of him. If you are
sure of your own heart, let it be so. He shall be to me as another
son,--to me and to your mother. Tell me, Madeline, shall it be so?"

She was sure enough of her own heart; but how was she to be sure of
that other heart? "It shall be so," said her father. But a man could
not be turned into a lover and a husband because she and her father
agreed to desire it;--not even if her mother would join in that
wish. She had confessed to her mother that she loved this man, and
the confession had been repeated to her father. But she had never
expressed even a hope that she was loved in return. "But he has never
spoken to me, papa," she said, whispering the words ever so softly
lest the winds should carry them.

"No; I know he has never spoken to you," said the judge. "He told me
so himself. I like him the better for that."

So then there had been other communications made besides that which
she had made to her mother. Mr. Graham had spoken to her father, and
had spoken to him about her. In what way had he done this, and how
had he spoken? What had been his object, and when had it been done?
Had she been indiscreet, and allowed him to read her secret? And then
a horrid thought came across her mind. Was he to come there and offer
her his hand because he pitied and was sorry for her? The Friday
f