“Perhaps so; but I alluded to my feelings and not my condition. How beautifully did our Prophet King refer his own elevated sensations to the planetary world, ‘The moon and the stars which Thou hast ordained.’” “True, true, my dearest Miriam; but you will recollect that while he made himself, and man generally, small in his _contemplation_ of the heavens, it was not in _comparison_ with them, it was comparing or contrasting man with Him who garnished the heavens, and wrote ‘all our members in a book.’ But are not your feelings, like mine, elevated with a hope, nay, with almost a certainty, that the elders will persuade my mother that the rights of our family can be retained, even though I marry you, or rather that the argument against our union was as unsustained by our laws as the attempt to give you to Salathiel was a violation of your affection and my rights.” “I know not but that may be the case. I feel it, Reuben, warmly at my heart. Let me say it without violating the delicacy of a maiden’s feelings, that such was my love for you, that even the alternative to which I consented, though of no moment, gave me a severe pang.” “What was that alternative?” asked the young man, with importunity. “Simply, that if you should not live to marry me, then Salathiel might take me to wife.” “I would haunt him with terrible bodings,” said Reuben, “even as Samuel frightened the falling Saul.” “And I, dear Reuben,” said the maiden, with a smile, “should, I suppose, be the Witch of Endor to call up your wandering and jealous spirit.” “And it is settled, then,” said Reuben, “and you are to be mine with the consent of our families. And the next new moon shall see us one.” “It shall be thus if your mother consents. I have none to consent or refuse, save my aunt. But let it not wound your feeling or excite suspicion in your mind, Reuben, that I ask you not to cherish feelings of unkindness against Salathiel. He is my kinsman and my early friend.” “Has he not sought to supplant me in your possession?” “Have you not supplanted him in my heart? Is it so much, my dear Reuben, for you to fear to lose me, and is it nothing for him to see me given to another?” “He tried for your possessions, Miriam, for your wealth only.” “Does not my wealth, little as it is, go with my hand—and why may not he have designs honorable as well as others?” “Because he would not leave it to your decision, to the arbitration of your affections. He could not love you and be willing to do violence to your love.” “May he not, dear Reuben, say the same of you?” “Of me! Miriam, you plead the cause of Salathiel. You wish the alternative—you would be free.”