Hinton, as well as Uncle Jasper, considered it a whim of Charlotte's. He was surprised. Nay, he was more than surprised. He was really angry. Here was the woman, who in a week's time now must stand up before God and promise solemnly to obey him for all the remainder of her life, refusing to attend to his most natural desire. She had an engagement, and she would not tell him what it was; she made a secret of it. Be the secret little or great, she knew how he disliked all such concealments. Was it possible that he was deceived in Charlotte after all? No, no, he was too really loyal to her, too sincerely attached to her: her frankness and sweetness were too natural, too complete, for him really to doubt her; but he owned that he was disappointed--he owned that he had not the greatness which she under similar circumstances would have exercised. She was keeping him in the dark--in the dark he could not trust. He recalled, with feelings of anything but pleasure, her last secret. She thought little of it. But Hinton knew how differently he had received it; he did not like to be reminded of it now. During the last few weeks he had managed almost completely to banish it from his thoughts; but now it came back to his memory with some force; it reminded him of Mrs. Home. Was it possible that he was acting wrongly in not searching into her rights? Was it possible that things had already come to such a pass with him, that he would not do the right because he feared the consequences? Had riches and wealth and worldly honor already become dearer to his soul than righteousness and judgment and truth? These condemnatory thoughts were very painful to the young man; but they turned his feelings of indignation from Charlotte to himself.