"Thank God! thank God!" she murmured at length. "He has given me my heart's desire;" and mingled caresses and tears fell upon Elsie's face. "For many years I have loved you as my own child, and now I am to have you. How bright our home will be, Edward. But we are darkening another. Her father; can he--has he----" "He has given her to me," answered the son quickly, "and she has--we have given ourselves to each other. Let me give an arm to each of you and we will go into the house." * * * * * The veranda at the Oaks was deserted, and the house very quiet, though lights still shone here and there, as Mr. Travilla and Elsie rode up and dismounted on their return from Ion. A servant rose from the grass, where he had been lying at his ease; came forward and led away his young mistress's pony, while the lover bade her a tender good-night, sprang into the saddle again, and presently disappeared, lost to view amid the trees and the windings of the road, though the sound of horse's hoofs still came faintly to Elsie's ear as she stood intently listening, a sweet smile irradiating every feature. Absorbed in her own thoughts, and in the effort to catch those fast-retreating sounds, she did not hear a step approaching from behind; but an arm encircled her waist, and a low-breathed "My darling" woke her from her reverie. She looked up, her eyes beaming with affection; "Papa; I am rather late, am I not?" "Not very. Hark! the clock is but just striking ten. Come, let us sit down here for a little. We have hardly had a chat together to-day." He sighed slightly as he drew her closer to him. "No, papa dear, there has been so much company," she answered, laying her head on his shoulder. "And----" "And what?" as she paused. "Your father used to know all that concerned you one way or the other. Is he to be shut out from your confidence now? Ah, I think he must have been for some time past." "I could not tell you _that_, papa," she murmured, blushing visibly in the moonlight. "Indeed, I hardly knew it myself till----" "Till when?" "The night of Sophie's wedding." "Ah!" he said, musingly; "but I cannot get over my surprise; he is your senior by so many years, and you have known him from childhood and looked upon him as a sort of uncle. I wonder at your choice." "But you don't object, papa?" "No, if I must give you away--and I've always known that would come some time--I would rather it should be to him than any one else, for I can never doubt that he will be tender and true to my precious one, when she leaves her father's home for his." "Papa, papa, don't speak of it," she cried, winding her arms about his neck, "I can't bear to think of it; that our home will no longer be the same, that I can't come to you every night and be folded to your heart as I have been ever since I was a little girl."