"Yes, you coaxing little thing; for he is devotedly fond of you, and I believe you like him with your whole heart, though it took you so long to find it out. What would you and he have done without me." "I don't know, Kate, but how came you to let him think of going?" "Ah! he quite deceived me in that matter; I never dreamt of it until it was all settled. It was no use my telling him that if you only knew he liked you, you would be glad to have him, as indeed any girl in her senses would. He said you only liked him in a sisterly sort of way, and would be off. I thought I would find out when he was gone, what sort of a way it was, but I had not the trouble." I smiled. She gave me a wistful look and said: "Ah! you don't want to be his niece now, do you?" "No, indeed," I promptly answered. "And I don't wish it either," she replied with a stifled sigh, "time was when I fretted and repined; when I wished I had been the wife of Edward Burns, and that his child had been my child; but that is over. I am glad now that my heart was denied that which it craved so eagerly; that my youth was cold and lonely; that my sorrow which past, purchased him and you a happiness which will I trust endure. Oh, Daisy! this is a good world after all, and with a good God over it; don't you see how the grief of one is made to work the bliss of another; how because your father and I were severed, the two children we loved so dearly can be united?" "I see, Kate," I replied looking up into her face, "that Cornelius is good; that I, too, am what is called a good girl, and yet that we are two selfish creatures; that you alone are truly good and noble." She shook her head with humble denial. "I am an idolator for all that," she replied, her lips trembling slightly, "and you are blind if you do not see it. When I lost my lover, I set my heart on a child--for what are we to do with our hearts, if we don't love with them?--and he has kept it, and if God, to chastise me, were to take him from me to-morrow, I feel I should love him as much in his grave as I do on earth. If it be a sin, I trust to His mercy to forgive it. Sometimes, when my heart fails me, I cling to the recollection of His humanity. He who felt so much tenderness for his dear mother; who loved His brethren so truly; who cherished the beloved disciple; who wept by the grave of Lazarus, will surely not be very severe on a poor woman to whose whole life he thought fit to grant but one delight and one happy love. Do you think he will, Daisy?" I was too much moved to reply. "Now, child," she said gaily, "don't cry, or Cornelius, whom I hear coming down after you, will think I have been scolding my future sister- in-law." "And would you not have the right to do so?" I asked, kissing her with mingled tenderness and reverence. As she returned the embrace, Cornelius entered, and from the threshold of the door, looked at us with a delighted smile. CHAPTER XIX.