‘Aunt Cherry! but you are wrong. I am quite sure you are wrong,’ said Cara, trembling. She could not help feeling a certain awe at the idea of this sudden power which seemed to be thrust into her hands; and yet it was too incredible to affect her profoundly. ‘Oswald is not like that,’ she said, ‘even if he meant it. He is not so serious, he does not feel so strongly.’ But then Cara herself paused, uncertain, thinking of the revolution in his thoughts of which he had told her, the crisis in his life. ‘Ah, Cara, even while you are speaking to me your view changes--you see the truth of what I say. Oh, think of it, my dear, and pray to God to direct you. It is not a thing to laugh about, as so many people do. Good-night, my darling, good-night! I must not talk any more, or I shall say more than I want to say, and it ought to be all left to your own feelings. Run away, run away, my own child, and think it over and judge for yourself.’ Cara withdrew with a little nervous shiver, drawing her cloak round her. The seriousness of this appeal overawed the girl. That she should plunge out of her almost childhood into this serious crisis, upon which so much depended, seemed incredible. She had scarcely turned away from the door when Miss Cherry put out her head again. ‘Cara, just one word. If there should be difficulties, I will stand by you. You shall not be crossed in anything that is for your happiness. We have plenty for you both. Good-night, my darling, good-night.’ This did not ease Cara’s mind as Miss Cherry intended, but only bewildered her. She stood for a moment wondering, till the door was closed again and her aunt disappeared. What did she mean? Difficulties to be surmounted which could make it comforting to know that there was plenty for both had not occurred to Cara’s mind, which indeed went not a step beyond the present dilemma. Could it be true? Awe, wonder, fright, contended in her mind with a suppressed sense of amusement which Cara thought wicked. Could Oswald feel so gravely, so deeply as Aunt Cherry thought? It did not seem possible; and could it be homely Cara who was the object of so serious a sentiment? Her little head seemed to go round and round as she tried to think. She dropped upon the hearthrug before the fire, kneeling, putting out her small hands to the warmth. Emotion is always chilly, and the effort of thinking upon such a wonderful subject made Cara shiver. She began to put things together, to remember the unusual warmth with which Mrs. Meredith embraced her, the strange look Edward gave her. When she remembered Edward’s look Cara grew colder than ever, and felt disposed to cry, she could not tell why. That, then, was what they all believed, not Aunt Cherry alone, who was romantic, but everybody--and poor Edward! Cara felt a sudden pang go through her heart. Why did Edward look at her so seriously, so pitifully? Was it only sympathy for what was going to happen--was it? But Oswald? Then she felt disposed to laugh.