its
bearings. She felt that no woman could be called upon to write a
letter that should be of more importance. The whole welfare in life
of the person who was dearest to her would probably depend upon it.
The weight upon her was so great that she thought for a while she
would take counsel with her mother; but she felt sure that her mother
would recommend the marriage; and that if she afterwards should find
herself bound to oppose it, then her mother would be a miserable
woman. There could be no use to her in taking counsel with her
mother, because her mother's mind was known to her beforehand. The
responsibility was thrown upon her, and she alone must bear it.

She tried hard to persuade herself to write at once and tell her
sister to marry the man. She knew her sister's heart so well as to be
sure that Dorothy would learn to love the man who was her husband. It
was almost impossible that Dorothy should not love those with whom
she lived. And then her sister was so well adapted to be a wife and
a mother. Her temper was so sweet, she was so pure, so unselfish, so
devoted, and so healthy withal! She was so happy when she was acting
for others; and so excellent in action when she had another one to
think for her! She was so trusting and trustworthy that any husband
would adore her! Then Priscilla walked slowly into the house, got
her prayer-book, and returning to her seat under the tree read the
marriage service. It was one o'clock when she went up-stairs to write
her letter, and it had not yet struck eleven when she first seated
herself beneath the tree. Her letter, when written, was as follows:--

Nuncombe Putney, August 25, 186--.

DEAREST DOROTHY,

I got your letter this morning, and I think it is better
to answer it at once, as the time is very short. I have
been thinking about it with all my mind, and I feel almost
awe-stricken lest I should advise you wrongly. After all,
I believe that your own dear sweet truth and honesty would
guide you better than anybody else can guide you. You may
be sure of this, that whichever way it is, I shall think
that you have done right. Dearest sister, I suppose there
can be no doubt that for most women a married life is
happier than a single one. It is always thought so, as we
may see by the anxiety of others to get married; and when
an opinion becomes general, I think that the world is most
often right. And then, my own one, I fee