"To ask me whether I would not promise to marry him some day," I replied in a low tone. There was a pause, during which I could hear the beating of my own heart. "Well," at length said Cornelius, "did you give him that promise?" "Guess!" I answered, and that he might not read the truth in my face, I averted it from his gaze. "Guess!" he echoed, with a groan, "imprudent girl, I guess but too easily. Oh, Daisy! how could you pledge yourself, how could you promise that which may be the misery of your whole life." "Cornelius, I did not promise." "But you love him!" he exclaimed with a sort of despair, "and love is surer than vows." In the reply which I then should have made, there was no cause for shame, yet my eyes sought the ground, my face burned, and I hesitated and paused. When I at length looked up, dreading to meet the glance of Cornelius, I perceived that his eyes were riveted on William Murray, who had come up the steep path unheard, and now stood leaning on the low wooden gate, looking at us sadly and gravely. I was the first to break the awkward pause that followed. "I thought you were gone. William," I said, rising, and taking a step towards him. "I could not make up my mind to it," he replied, giving me a look of half reproach. "I could not go without bidding you once more good-bye." He held out his hand to me; I gave him mine across the gate. He took it, and keeping it clasped in his, he turned to Cornelius, and said with repressed emotion: "I don't know why I should be ashamed of it--I am not ashamed of it--Mr. O'Reilly, I love her with my whole heart. I don't think there is another girl like her; at least I am very sure there is not another one for me. I think she likes me; but, hard as I begged, she would promise me nothing-- she could not she said without your knowledge or consent; I said I wanted nobody's knowledge or consent, to like her. We parted rather angrily; but I thought better of it, and came back to speak to you, since she wished it. And look! even here in your presence, she takes her hand from me, lest you should not like it." I did, indeed, withdraw my hand from his, as he spoke, partly because from friendship William had gone to love, partly because I had met the look of Cornelius, which disturbed me. "Mr. O'Reilly," said William, looking at him very fixedly, "do you object?" "No," coldly answered Cornelius. William opened the gate, and stepped in with a triumphant look. "Do you hear that, Daisy?" he exclaimed. "Do not misunderstand me," quietly said Cornelius. "I do not object; but if Daisy wishes for my advice, I certainly advise her not to enter at seventeen into an engagement destined to last her whole life. The human heart changes; it will often loathe the very object of its former wishes, and often, too, learn to long too late for that which it once dreaded as utter misery."