For a time the youthful lovers were happy--happy in themselves, and the joys of the new existence opened up to them by the magic wand of LOVE. But love has its trials, as all can testify who have tasted its potency in the heart; and so these two learned. Their engagement was a family secret, not yet to be developed. Hence, many of her admirers still offered their attentions, in the vain hope of ultimate success. Particularly was this the case with those who had an eye to the fortune rather than the heiress, taking the latter as the only means of obtaining the former; and first among this number was Louis Durant, a man of corrupt principles, and deeply depraved feelings. A sprig of a noble family of small pretensions, whose pride far exceeded their means, he was desirous of obtaining wealth; and being too indolent to enter a profession, too poor to become a merchant, and too proud to work, as a last resort, he wished to _marry_ a fortune. Like most of his class, he was unscrupulous as to _means_ so the _end_ was attained. It was, therefore, an easy matter to conform, in outward appearance, to the society he was in. This he never failed to do. When with the Waltons, he was a pattern of generosity, and a pitying angel. When with the gambler, or the _roue_, he was equally at home--a debauchee, or a handler of cards. With the intuitive perception of woman, Ellen saw through his character at once; and, though she treated him with civility, never gave him any encouragement. Blinded by her fortune, and construing her reserve into the bashfulness of a first passion, being too vain to acknowledge the inability of his powers of fascination to carry all before them, he gave himself up to hope, and already counted on the half of the Walton estate as his own, and spent many a shilling of his small funds on the strength of the anticipation. When he saw that the bottom of his purse would soon be reached, he sought an opportunity, declared himself in love, and asked the hand of Miss Walton. The General to whom he had always appeared a "fine fellow," would leave his daughter to decide the matter. Thus referred, he lost no time in making Ellen the recipient of his "tale of love." All his theatrical powers were called in action; his eloquence commanded; but the impressions made were far different from those intended. Though the outward semblance was complete, Ellen saw that the passion was feigned, and a still deeper dislike took possession of her feelings. But with gentle delicacy, she told him his passion was not returned. "Then," said he, "let me win your love. I am sure your heart will yield when you are convinced of the depth of the devotedness of my affection." "Do not flatter yourself with a vain hope. I feel that I shall never be able to love you; and it is in kindness that I tell you so at once."