She answered only with a look, but it said all he wished. "Bless you, darling!" he whispered, putting his arm about her, while her head dropped upon his shoulder, "you have made me very happy." Molly was silent, was weeping, but for very gladness; her heart sang for joy; not that a beautiful home, wealth, and all the luxury and ease it could purchase, would now be hers, but that she was loved by one so noble and generous, so altogether worthy of her highest respect, her warmest affection, the devotion of her whole life, which she inwardly vowed should be his. She would strive to be to him such a wife as Elsie had been to her husband, such a mother to his children as her sweet cousin was to hers. CHAPTER XVI. "I saw her, and I loved her-- I sought her, and I won." "Across the threshold led, And every tear kiss'd off as soon as shed, His house she enters, there to be a light Shining within, when all without is night; A guardian angel, o'er his life presiding, Doubling his pleasure, and his cares dividing." --_Roger._ "You declined a drive with me the last time I asked you," Mr. Embury remarked, breaking a momentary silence that had fallen between them, "but will you not be more gracious to-day? My carriage is near at hand, and I have a great desire to take you for an airing--you and the babies." Blushing deeply, Molly said, "Yes, if you wish it, and will bring me back before I am missed." "I shall take good care of you, as who would not of his own?" he said, bending down to look into her face with a proud, fond smile; "yes, you are mine now, dearest, and I shall never resign my claim. Ah," as he lifted his head again, "here comes your uncle, and I fancy he eyes me with distrust. Mr. Dinsmore," and he stepped forward with outstretched hand, "how do you do, sir? What do you say to receiving me into the family? I trust you will not object, for this dear girl intends to give me the right to call you uncle." Mr. Dinsmore grasped the hand, looking in silent astonishment from one to the other. He read the story of their love in both faces--Molly's downcast and blushing, yet happy; Mr. Embury's overflowing with unfeigned delight. "I assure you, sir," he went on, "I am fully aware that she is a prize any man might be proud to win. Your niece is no ordinary woman: her gifts and graces are many and great." "She is all that you have said, and even more," her uncle returned, finding his voice. "And yet--you are quite sure that this is not a sudden impulse for which you may some day be sorry?" He had stepped to Molly's other side and taken her hand in his, in a protecting, fatherly way. "It would wreck her happiness," he added, in moved tones, "and that is very dear to me."