"Dearest Edith," said I, sitting down by her and taking her hand in both mine, "do not reproach yourself for a sensibility so natural, so innocent, nay more, so noble. Do not, from mistaken delicacy, sacrifice your own happiness, and that of another which is, I firmly believe, forever intertwined with it. Confide in your mother,--confide in your brother, who think you have made a solemn resolution to live a single life. They do not know this young man; but give them an opportunity of knowing him. Cast him not off, if you love him; for I would almost stake my life upon his integrity and honor." "Blessings, Gabriella, for this generous confidence!" she exclaimed, throwing her arms round me, with all the impulsiveness of childhood; "but it is all in vain. Do you think I would take advantage of Julian's uncalculating love, and entail upon him for life the support and guardianship of this frail, helpless form? Do you think I would hang a dead, dull weight on the wings of his young ambition? Oh, no! You do not know me, Gabriella." "I know you have very wrong views of yourself," I answered; "and I fear you will do great wrong to others, if you do not change them. You are not helpless. No bird of the wild-wood wings their way more fearlessly and lightly than yourself. You are not frail now. Health glows on your cheek and beams in your eye. You cling to a resolution conceived in early youth, before you recovered from the effects of a painful malady. A dull weight! Why, Edith, you would rest like down on his mounting wings. You would give them a more heavenly flight. Do not, beloved Edith, indulge these morbid feelings. There is a love, stronger, deeper than a sister's affection. You feel it now. You forgive me for loving Ernest. You forgive him for loving me. I believe Julian worthy of your heart. Give him hope, give him time, and he will come erelong, crowned with laurels, and lay them smiling at your feet." "Dear, inspiring Gabriella!" she exclaimed, "you infuse new life and joy into my inmost soul. I feel as if I could discard these crutches and walk on air. No; I am not helpless. If there was need, I could toil for him I loved with all a woman's zeal. These hands could minister to his necessities, this heart be a shield and buckler in the hour of danger. Thank Heaven, I am lifted above want, and how blest to share the gifts of fortune with one they would so nobly grace! But do you really think that I ought to indulge such dreams? Am not I a cripple? Has not God set a mark upon me?" "No,--you shall not call yourself one. You are only lifted above the gross earth, because you are more angelic than the rest of us. I hear your mother's coming footsteps; I will leave you together, that you may reveal to her all that is passing in your heart." I left her; and as I passed Mrs. Linwood on the stairs, and met her anxious eyes, I said: "Edith has the heart of a woman. I know by my own experience how gently you will deal with it."