Emily turned away, musing, and Wentworth twirled his gay moustache with an abstracted air. “But where’s Muriel, I wonder?” said Harrington, after a pause. “Here she is—no, it’s our dear mamma,” exclaimed Wentworth. “Your mamma it is, children,” said Mrs. Eastman, coming into the room, silver-gay, with her bonnet on. “I have just returned from Milton, and heard your voices, or rather John’s voice, as I came up-stairs. But, bless me, where did all these flowers come from? Why, the library is turned into fairy-land!” “Ah, mamma,” said Emily, “we are all in fairy-land to-day, and the fairy-prince has done it, with the help of this fairy chevalier,” and she bent her head toward Harrington. “Why, what has happened to you, children?” asked Mrs. Eastman, laughing softly, as she removed her bonnet. “Now, mamma,” said Wentworth, fronting her with Emily on his arm, “I’m going to surprise you. Prepare to be surprised.” “Well, I’m ready,” said Mrs. Eastman, gaily. “Emily and I are to be married in October,” said Wentworth, suddenly. “My dear children, I am more glad to hear this than I can say,” fondly replied Mrs. Eastman, kissing both of them. “But, children, you don’t surprise me at all,” she added, with smiling equability. “I saw that you were lovers some time since, and was expecting this.” Mrs. Eastman might have also said that she saw they had quarrelled, and knew what was the matter with Emily during her night and day of sorrow, but she was discreet and did not. “There!” exclaimed Wentworth, with a grimace, “there’s my surprise now? Mamma, you’re a witch, and there’s no keeping anything from you!” “Stop, Richard!” cried Emily. “Let John try his hand at a surprise.” Mrs. Eastman was well named Serena, she was so sweetly calm, but the color rose to her face, and she trembled, as Harrington came toward her with outstretched arms. “Mother,” he fervently said, holding her in his embrace, “you have your wish. I was mistaken. Last night, Muriel and I”— Her eyes filled, and without a word she flew from his arms and out of the room. Harrington covered his humid eyes with his hand, and stood still. Wentworth and Emily moved silently away, with hushed faces. It was but a moment, and she came back with a swift, free step, her calm face lighted between its silver tresses, the tears upon her cheeks, and put her arms around him. “Hush!” she whispered. “Do not speak to me. Let me dream of this. I am too happy.” His arms had enfolded her, and with his eyes closed, and his lips pressed to her beautiful silver hair, while her face lay upon his bosom, they stood still. “Yes,” she murmured, after a long pause, looking up with a still and radiant face into his noble countenance, “yes, I have my wish, and I am happy.” She placed her arm in his, and moved with him across the library. “Well, mamma,” said Emily, with her ambrosial smile, “We did surprise you, after all.”