ar as it depends on
ourselves, we are determined to be at home by Michaelmas.'

All seemed surprised to find the time for the wedding so near at hand.
Charles's spirits began to flag, Amy was a greater loss to him than to
anybody else; she could never again be to him what she had been, and
unable as he was to take part in the general bustle and occupation, he
had more time for feeling this, much more than his mother and Laura, who
were employed all day. He and Guy were exemplary in their civilities to
each other in not engrossing Amy, and one who had only known him three
years ago, when he was all exaction and selfishness, could have hardly
believed him to be the same person who was now only striving to avoid
giving pain, by showing how much it cost him to yield up his sister. He
could contrive to be merry, but the difficulty was to be cheerful; he
could make them all laugh in spite of themselves, but when alone with
Amy, or when hearing her devolve on her sisters the services she had
been wont to perform for him, it was almost more than he could endure;
but then he dreaded setting Amy off into one of her silent crying-fits,
for which the only remedy was the planning a grand visit to Redclyffe,
and talking overall the facilities of railroads and carriages.

The last day had come, and a long strange one it was; not exactly joyful
to any, and very sad to some, though Amy, with her sweet pensive face,
seemed to have a serenity of her own that soothed them whenever they
looked at her. Charlotte, though inclined to be wild and flighty,
was checked and subdued in her presence; Laura could not be entirely
wretched about her; Charles lay and looked at her without speaking; her
father never met her without kissing her on each side of her face, and
calling her his little jewel; her mother--but who could describe Mrs.
Edmonstone on that day, so full of the present pain, contending with the
unselfish gladness.

Guy kept out of the way, thinking Amy ought to be left to them. He sat
in his own room a good while, afterwards rode to Broadstone, in coming
home made a long visit to Mr. Ross; and when he returned, he found
Charles in his wheeled chair on the lawn, with Amy sitting on the grass
by his side. He sat down by her and there followed a long silence,--one
of those pauses full of meaning.

'When shall we three meet again?' at length said Charles, in a would-be
lively tone.

'And where?' said Amy.

'Here,' said Charles; 'you