With fervently murmured blessings, my aunt dismissed me; and I went to prepare for a ride with Edward. Before I set out, I wrote a note to Alice, in which I announced to her my approaching marriage; and, by Mrs. Middleton's desire, begged that she and Henry would come to us in the evening. During our ride Edward was very silent; and when he spoke it was to find some trifling fault with my way of sitting on my horse, and holding my bridle. My heart was still thrilling with emotions awakened by my conversation with my aunt; her expressions of enthusiastic tenderness were still sounding in my ears, and the words of reproof, however slight, which fell from Edward's lips, contrasted with them, grated on my feelings, and irritated my susceptibility. Unlike as they were in many respects, there was one resemblance between Mrs. Middleton and Henry Lovell, which never failed to strike me. Without affectation or exaggeration, by the peculiar qualities of their minds, by the union of a powerful understanding with a lively imagination, joined to a kind of spontaneous eloquence, and a ready command of language, they made every subject which they handled more or less picturesque and exciting. I remembered at that moment that Henry had once said to me, that his sister had done me harm; and I almost trembled as I asked myself, if I should not painfully miss (in spite of my devoted attachment to Edward) that ready sympathy which I had been so long used to, which it was in my nature to require, and not in his to yield. We were just then passing through some fields near Fulham, and came to a deep ditch with a fence beyond it. Edward crossed it; but strictly charged me not to attempt to follow him, while he examined the next field, and found out another exit; but piqued at his previous observations on my horsemanship, I pushed Selim on, and with a flying leap arrived on the other side. Edward joined me; and when I looked at him triumphantly, he was quite pale. We rode on without speaking for a few minutes; and when to break this silence, I said to him, "I hope you admire my courage?" he answered drily, "I dislike unnecessary emotions, as much as you appear to delight in them." After a pause, he added, "Such an instance of disobedience in a wife would be inexcusable; and though submission may be only a duty _after_ marriage, I own _I_ think it a charm before." I held out my hand to Edward, with an imploring countenance. He took it; and kissing it tenderly, said with a smile, "I am like the mothers, Ellen, who scold their children when they have been frightened about them; but still remember, my love, that I would rather see you afraid of displeasing me, than displaying a courage which never captivated me in a woman. It is a dangerous way of working upon my feelings; and would, I assure you, never answer."