“At any rate, Rosalie, here are the naked facts: Mark Sutherland, being quite penniless, and well knowing that he has no way on earth of supporting a wife, makes the best use of his opportunities to woo and win an heiress!” Rosalie dropped her face into her hands; her bosom heaved convulsively, as with some inward struggle, for an instant, and then lifting a countenance blushing and tearful, yet gently resolute, she said, in a faltering voice: “I must make a confession, even if it cover me with humiliation. I must clear Mr. Sutherland, and take the blame where it truly belongs—upon my own head. Uncle, it was _my fault_—_my own_—_mine solely_.” She paused, for her girl’s nature would not bear the look the old man fixed upon her. She averted her face, and with deeply flushed cheek and low, tremulous voice, resumed: “I loved him, uncle. It was impossible, adoring moral heroism as I did, _not_ to love him. God and angels know it, and you must know it, too”—— Again she paused for an answer, but Colonel Ashley did not reply, and she asked— “Uncle! you exonerate Mr. Sutherland now, do you not?” “Yes!” exclaimed Colonel Ashley, speaking as if waking up out of a reverie. “I exonerated him at first; I only wanted to see, Rosalie, whether you would have the honour and generosity to admit what you have. Good heaven! It seems to me fully one half the love originates with the girls, although they have too much tact to let us know it! Now, there was your aunt: I was two years courting her. In truth, I thought I had a terrible time to win her heart; but listen, now. Some time after we had been married, she told me how many months she had been ‘setting her cap’ at me before I ever thought of her; and yet you see after she had once gained her point, and brought me to her feet, she kept me on the tenterhooks of suspense for two years!” “May I go now? Are you done with me, uncle?” “No, my dear, I have not begun with you yet! I must give you a lecture! Don’t you know it was a very unmaidenly thing of you to ‘set your cap’ at Mr. Sutherland?” “Uncle, Mr. Sutherland evidently does not pronounce such a judgment, and therefore it is not so.” “No, poor fellow! because he doesn’t know you _did_ it. _He’s_ under the illusion that he did all the lovemaking himself. That’s natural. But now, then, Rosalie, how do you expect to get along in this world if you and Mark are married? You may know that _he_ has no way of supporting you, and your guardian would see you both in the bottomless pit before _he’d_ advance a cent of your fortune. Come, stop blushing and trembling, and answer me, my dear. I like people to be practical. What do you expect to do?” “I do not know, uncle; I wish to leave it all to Mr. Sutherland. I have so much confidence in his judgment and in his regard for me, that I feel perfectly sure he will never draw me into any evil or suffering.”