y. Yet, strange as
it may appear to you, it is far from being lightly made. Calm your
mind into reflection, and ask yourself, firmly and seriously, why
you love Edward Allen. True love ever has an appreciating regard for
moral excellence--and knowledge must precede appreciation. What do
you know of the moral wisdom of this young man, into whose hands you
are about placing the destinies of your being for time--it may be
for eternity? Again let me put the question--Why do you love Edward
Allen?"

Fanny looked bewildered. No searching interrogations like these had
been addressed to her, even by her parents; and their effect was to
throw her whole mind into painful confusion.

"I love him for his excellent qualities, and because he loves me,"
she at length said, yet with a kind of uncertain manner, as if the
reply did not spring from a clear mental perception.

"What do you mean by excellent qualities?" further inquired Mrs.
Waring.

Tears came into Fanny's sweet blue eyes, as she answered--

"A young girl like me, dear Aunt Mary, cannot penetrate very deeply
into a man's character. We have neither the opportunity nor the
experience upon which, coldly, to base an accurate judgment. The
heart is our guide. In my own case its instincts, I am sure, have
not betrayed me into a false estimate of my lover. I know him to be
good and noble; and I am sure his tender regard for the maiden he
has asked to become his bride, will ever lead him to seek her
happiness, as she will seek his. Do not doubt him, aunt."

Yet, Mrs. Waring could not help doubting him. The young man had not
impressed her favourably. No word had fallen from his lips during
the evening unmarked by her--nor had a single act escaped
observation. In vain had she looked, in his declarations of
sentiments, for high moral purposes--for something elevated and
manly in tone. In their place she found only exceeding worldliness,
or the flippant commonplace.

"No basis there, I fear, on which to build," said Mrs. Waring,
thoughtfully, after parting with her niece for the night. "Dear,
loving, confiding child! The heart of a maiden is not always her
best guide. Like the conscience, it needs to be instructed; must be
furnished with tests of quality."

On the day following, Mrs. Waring went out alone. Without, seeming
to have any purpose in her mind, she had asked the number of Mr.
Allen's store, whither she went with the design of making a few
purchases. As she had h