dear Mr. Burgess," and ended
them with "yours truly." She never made any allusion to Brooke's
declaration of love, or gave the slightest sign in her letters to
shew that she even remembered it. At last she wrote to say that her
aunt was convalescent; and, in making this announcement, she allowed
herself some enthusiasm of expression. She was so happy, and was so
sure that Mr. Burgess would be equally so! And her aunt had asked
after her "dear Brooke," expressing her great satisfaction with
him, in that he had come down to see her when she had been almost
too ill to see any one. In answer to this there came to her a real
love-letter from Brooke Burgess. It was the first occasion on
which he had written to her. The little bulletins had demanded no
replies, and had received none. Perhaps there had been a shade of
disappointment on Dorothy's side, in that she had written thrice, and
had been made rich with no word in return. But, although her heart
had palpitated on hearing the postman's knock, and had palpitated in
vain, she had told herself that it was all as it should be. She wrote
to him, because she possessed information which it was necessary that
she should communicate. He did not write to her, because there was
nothing for him to tell. Then had come the love-letter, and in the
love-letter there was an imperative demand for a reply.

What was she to do? To have recourse to Priscilla for advice was
her first idea; but she herself believed that she owed a debt
of gratitude to her aunt, which Priscilla would not take into
account,--the existence of which Priscilla would by no means
admit. She knew Priscilla's mind in this matter, and was sure that
Priscilla's advice, whatever it might be, would be given without any
regard to her aunt's views. And then Dorothy was altogether ignorant
of her aunt's views. Her aunt had been very anxious that she should
marry Mr. Gibson, but had clearly never admitted into her mind the
idea that she might possibly marry Brooke Burgess; and it seemed to
her that she herself would be dishonest, both to her aunt and to her
lover, if she were to bind this man to herself without her aunt's
knowledge. He was to be her aunt's heir, and she was maintained by
her aunt's liberality! Thinking of all this, she at last resolved
that she would take the bull by the horns, and tell her aunt. She
felt that the task would be one almost beyond her strength. Thrice
she went into her aunt's room, intending to