“Bless me, what does your husband mean? Mr. Harper, what possible objection?----”-- “None, except we have changed our plans. It is quite uncertain how long we may stay at Kingcombe Holm, or where we may go from thence.” “Not to America, surely? You would not break your word to poor dear Agatha?” “I never break my word.” “Well, Mr. Harper, I declare I can't understand you,” cried Emma, sharply. “I only hope that Agatha does. Is all this with your knowledge and consent, my poor child?” She said this, eyeing the husband with doubt and the wife with curiosity, as if disposed to put herself in the breach between the two, if breach there were. Agatha heard Nathanael's quick breathing--caught her friend's look of patronising compassion. Something of the dignity of marriage, the shame lest any third party should share or even witness aught that passes between those two who have now become one--awoke in the young girl's spirit. The feeling was partly pride, yet mingled with something far holier. She put Emma gently aside. “Whatever my husband's decision may be, I am quite satisfied therewith.” Mrs. Thornycroft was mute with amazement However, she was too good-natured to be really angry. “Certainly, you are the most extraordinary, incomprehensible young couple! But I can't stay to discuss the matter. Agatha, I shall see you to-morrow?” “Yes; I will bring her to you to-morrow,” said Mr. Harper, cheerfully, as their visitor departed. The husband and wife regarded one another in silence. At last he said, taking her hand: “I owe you thanks, Agatha, for”-- “For doing my duty. I hope I shall never forget that.” At the word “duty,” so coldly uttered, Mr. Harper had let her hand fall He stood motionless, leaning against the marble chimney-piece, his face as white as the marble itself, and, in Agatha's fancy, as hard. “Have you, then, quite decided against our taking the house?” she asked at length. “I find it will be impossible.” “Why so? But I forget; it is useless to ask _you_ questions.” He made no reply. “Pardon my inquiry, but do you still keep to your plan of leaving next week for Dorsetshire?” “If you are willing.” “I willing?” And she thought how, two hours before, she had rejoiced in the prospect of seeing her husband's ancestral home--her father-in-law--her new sisters. Her heart failed her--the poor girlish heart that as yet knew not either the world or itself. She burst into tears. Instantly Mr. Harper caught her in his arms. “Oh, Agatha, forgive me!--Have patience with me, and we may still be happy; at least, you may. Only trust your husband, and love him a little--a very little--as much as you can.” “How can I trust you, whom I do not thoroughly understand? how can I--love”-- Her hesitation--her pride warring with the expression of that feeling which her very anger taught her was there--seemed to pierce her husband to the soul.