"Col. Anglesea is a gentleman of the highest social position. I congratulate you, my darling." "But, mother! mother!" Odalite exclaimed in alarm. "I have declined Col. Anglesea's offer!" "Have you, my dear? Then you acted very hastily and inconsiderately. You will think better of it and accept it," said the lady, very gravely. "Oh, no, no, mamma! Never! never! How could I think of doing such a thing, when I am on the very eve of marriage with Le?" "My daughter, you were too hasty in that matter also. That childish engagement--which was no binding one, after all--need not and must not prevent your forming a more desirable union with Col. Anglesea," urged the lady, almost in the very words used by the colonel himself when pressing his suit with Odalite. "Oh, mother! mother! surely you do not advocate----Oh, mother! mother! Spare me! Do not urge me into such a dreadful act!" exclaimed the girl, starting up in a wild excitement. "Sit down and calm yourself, my dear child, and listen to me." Odalite threw herself on the sofa, and buried her face in its cushions. "Col. Anglesea belongs to one of the noblest families in the north of England," continued the lady. "He is a neighbor and friend of my father. He can give you a high position among the landed gentry of England." "But, oh, mother! dear mother! dear mother! I do not want a high position anywhere! and especially in a foreign country, where I should be separated from you and father and my little sisters!" sobbed the girl, with her face down in the cushions. "But, my dear, you are very young, and you do not know what is good for you. I, your mother, so much older, so much more experienced, surely do know what is best for your happiness. And, Odalite, I have set my heart on your marriage with this gentleman. If you should persist in your rejection of his suit I should be more than disappointed; I should be deeply grieved; yes, grieved beyond measure, Odalite." This, and much more to the same purpose, was strongly and persistently urged by the mother, until Odalite, frightened, distressed and overwhelmed by her vehemence, earnestness and persistence, fell half conquered at the lady's feet, with the cry that opened this story: "Mother! oh, mother! it will break my heart!" Yet not for that would the lady yield. And not for that did she pause. But after more caressings, more persuasion, and more arguments--seeing that nothing less than the knowledge of the dread secret which had blighted her own bright youth could ever win Odalite to consent to the only sacrifice through which that secret would be kept--the mother, as has been already told, drew her daughter off to the seclusion of her own bedchamber, where they remained shut up for two hours. At the end of that time Odalite came out alone, looking, oh! so changed, as if the bright and blooming girl of sixteen had suddenly become a sad and weary woman.