He stooped his head and kissed me. "If you are as constant to me, sweet Virginia, as I shall be to you, nothing can separate us." Oh, joyous words! Were they not the very same with which I had fortified my courage scarcely a month ago? We parted just after midnight. My aunt was sitting up for me, and I burst into the room in great excitement. "Oh, Aunt Helen, I am engaged, I am engaged! I am so happy!" "My darling child!" We wept in each other's arms. "He is so noble, Aunty; so good and kind!" "God grant he may continue so!" she said, stroking my hair. I gave a vent to my ecstasy in talk. While I rattled on she sat drying her eyes and looking at me with a half fond, half uneasy expression. Now and again she sobbed hysterically. At last she exclaimed, "What will your father say?" "We will think of that to-morrow," I said. "I mean to be perfectly happy to-night." "You will have to write to him of course." "We have decided on nothing yet." "Oh, Virginia, I am all in a flutter. What _will_ he say? He is sure to blame me, and Heaven knows I acted for what seemed to me the best." "It _was_ the best, dear Aunt Helen. Can't you see how happy I am? When Roger and I are married, you shall come and live with us always, and have the best room in the house; for if it hadn't been for you I might never have known what it is to be loved by the noblest man in the world." It was a long time before I fell asleep. I was aroused in the morning by a knock at my door. It was Aunt Helen. "Let me in," she said mysteriously. "Well?" said I when I had risen and admitted her, "what is it? What has happened?" "Your father has just arrived. He is downstairs." "Father?" "Yes. He knows nothing of course. I have scarcely slept a wink all night, Virginia. I feel dreadfully nervous. What _will_ he say?" I got back into bed and drew the clothes up to my chin in an affectation of composure. But I was overwhelmed by the news. His opposition seemed a much more serious consideration than when regarded by moonlight. A visit from him at any other time would not have been a surprise, for he had said he should run down to Tinker's Reach at his first leisure moment. My aunt stood at the foot of the bed, watching my face and expecting me to speak. "What do you mean to do about it?" she asked. "Tell him," I replied. "I suppose you might put it off until you return to town, especially if you would make up your mind to see very little of Mr. Dale in the mean time." "No. It is best to have it over and done with. I want it settled now and forever." I felt my courage hardening. "Well, Heaven bless you, child!" she said, kissing me. "You must admit, Virginia, that I have warned you all along that your father was opposed to Mr. Dale." "It is not your fault in any way, Aunt Helen. I shall tell him so."