This was all Edith Manners could say to her friend; and more than many others would have said, who knew her less familiarly; for she had, in truth, grace and ease in her manners only when she had grace and quietness in her soul; that it was sometimes said of her by those she would gladly have pleased, “I don’t fancy her; she has a hard manner.” Well, they sat here, those two, in their easy-chairs, and rocked and talked, with their eyes steadily on each other’s face. He held her hand in his, and kissed the fingers ever and anon as he talked and listened. At length he folded her close to his heart, and, with his lips on hers, called her--his “beloved!” The next morning, when they met here, on the spot so sacred and dear to them both now, he took her to him once more, and said, “When will my Monde be _all_ my own?” She, “pliant as a reed,” and with her arms clinging to him, answered, “Any time, dear Alfred--any time!” because, you see, she felt then, Edith, that she could not well live without him a day. But it seems to have been demonstrated that she can--for he left her the following morning, after it had been agreed that they will both write immediately to her parents; that, their replies being propitious, he will accompany her to them in one month, and, in six months more, he will receive her at their hands; that, after two or three weeks spent there, he will bring her to his own home, to pass the rest of her happy life by his side. And here ends my story. Only I must tell you how good uncle and aunt are. Aunt wept for joy, as if she would suffocate, when Alfred, standing close before me, with my hand in his, told her and uncle our resolves. Uncle, also, had moist eyes. He stood one moment near us, the next he walked the floor. I presume he thought of the dear Alice. I did; and longed that the blessings of her glorified spirit might be upon our union. “You shall be as a daughter to me in all respects, Monde,” said uncle, speaking with difficulty. “I have loved you as if you were my daughter, ever since you came. Whatever you need to have done, I shall attend to--if you will come to me always, as though I were your father. And you will, Monde?” I answered the imploring voice, the imploring eyes, by catching the hand extended to me in both my own, and covering it with grateful tears and kisses.