Lucy was certainly the soul, the very cream of amiability. It was unaccountable to her admirers--and they included most of her associates--that Lewis Hammond, with his peculiar habits and tastes, should prefer that severe-looking, strong-minded Sarah. But, be it remembered, that he had learned this love under far different influences; in circumstances wholly unlike those in which he now beheld its object. His respect for unobtrusive intent and feeling; his longing for a home which should be the abode of sacred domestic virtues; and the sweet peace that had fled from the habitations frequented only by the frivolous, heartless, and vain--these found in the sick-room of the father, and the affectionate fidelity of the daughter, something so like the embodiment of his fancy of earthly happiness, that he accepted as a benignant fate the accident which had admitted him to the arcana of their private life. Sarah's temporary illness had taught him the meaning of his dreams, by seeming to peril the chances of their fulfilment; and from that hour he strove patiently and sedulously, as it was his habit, to seek all great ends for the acquisition of the heart whose depth he perhaps, of all who knew her, best understood. The most impatient person of those directly or indirectly concerned in the progress of this wooing was Mrs. Hunt. Her husband, with unwonted firmness, had forbidden that anyone of the household should speak a word in raillery or otherwise to Sarah touching Mr. Hammond's intentions. "However earnestly I may desire his success," he said to his wife--"and there is no man living whom I would rather call 'son'--I would not influence her by the weight of a single syllable. Hers is the happiness or the misery of a life with her husband--whomsoever she may choose, and hers shall be the entire choice. If she can love and marry Lewis Hammond, I shall be gratified; if not, she shall never guess at my disappointment." "La, Mr. H.! you are as foolish and sentimental as the girl herself! For my part, I ain't such a saint, and I do say, that if Sarah Hunt allows such a catch as this to slip through her fingers, she shall hear a piece of my mind!" "I insist," said Mr. Hunt, with immovable resolution, "that Sarah shall be allowed to follow the guidance of her own will in this matter. It is not often that I interfere with your plans; but in this one instance I must be obeyed!" With which astounding declaration of equal rights, if not of sovereignty, he left his consort to her reflections. Ignorant of the delicate watchfulness maintained over her by this best of friends, Sarah walked on her beclouded way--without hope, without one anticipation of any future dissimilar to her present, until awakened with a shock by a formal declaration of love from Lewis Hammond. CHAPTER IX.