ell," said Christina, after a minute's pause, as if she had come to
a resolution, "we must always stay as we are. Happiness is never
increased by an act of disobedience."

"I think as you do," said the young soldier, admiring her all the more
for the death-blow to his hopes; "and are you happy, quite happy,
Christina?"

"What a question! Don't I see you every day? Isn't every body kind to
me? Is there any thing I want?"

A different answer would have pleased the lover more. He looked at her
for some time in silence--at last, in an altered tone, he said--

"I congratulate you on your prudence, Christina."

"I cannot break my father's heart."

"No, but mine, Christina!"

"Adolphus," said the young beauty solemnly, "if I cannot be your wife
with the consent of my father, I never will marry another. This is all
you can ask; all I can promise."

Filial affection was not quite so strong in Adolphus as in his cousin,
and his face was by no means brightened on hearing this declaration.
It was so uncommonly proper that it seemed nearly bordering on the
cold and heartless. He tried to hate her; he walked up and down the
room at a tremendous pace, stopping every now and then to take another
glance at the tyrant who had pronounced his doom, and looked as
beautiful as ever. He found it impossible to hate _her_, though we
shall not enquire what were his sentiments towards her worthy
progenitor, Count Ericson, the unknown lover, and even the young
heroic King; for the sagacious reader must now be informed that this
wonderful lovers' quarrel took place in the reign of Charles XII. Our
fear is that he disliked all four. Christina found it very difficult
to preserve the gravity essential to a heroine's appearance when she
saw the long strides and bent brows of her lover. A smile was ready,
on the slightest provocation, to make a dimple in her beautiful cheek,
and all the biting she bestowed on her lips only made them redder and
rosier. Adolphus had no inclination to smile, and could not believe
that any body could see the least temptation to indulge in such a
ridiculous occupation on such a momentous occasion. He was a regular
lover, as Mr Weller would say, and no mistake. He saw in his fair
cousin only a treasure of inestimable price, guarded by two monsters
that made his approaches hopeless--avarice and ambition. How
differently those two young people viewed the same event! Christina,
knowing her power over her father, and un