"You have been unhappy, my child, so unhappy; but I almost guessed it when I looked in your face months ago." "Yes, but not unhappy now, Mamma. I was very miserable, for I thought he loved me until he left me--went away without a word. Oh! mother, _that_ was a bitter trial to me, and instead of trying to rouse myself and cast his image out of my heart, knowing I had done wrong in ever loving him, and doubly so now I had found out his cruel unworthiness, I nursed my love; bemoaned my fate; and steadily shut my heart against Mr. Vavasour. But it could not be; he was too noble hearted, so patient under my waywardness; sorrowful, but never reproachful; and--and so Mamma I have promised to become his wife; and am happy, not grieved or sad, at the idea; no, I will be his faithful, loving wife, and in his true heart forget this early foolish love that caused me so much unhappiness, and nearly lost me the heart of him who is now to be my husband." "You are right, Amy, to forget _him_, right to tear _his_ image from your heart; a man to treat you so is unworthy of any woman's love; and yet--yet I am scarcely satisfied. I fear this engagement. Is it not hasty, too hasty? Do not rush into a marriage hoping to escape from a love, however unworthy, still struggling at your heart; such a mistake might make the one regret of your whole life." "I do not. I will not," replied Amy firmly, as she rose, and stooping over her mother, kissed her fondly; "If this is the only reason you have, dear Mamma, for fear, then rest content: my engagement with Mr. Vavasour is for my--all our happiness; will you try and think so? I should feel very unhappy indeed if you refused your consent; or that my marriage grieved you." "It does not grieve me, Amy. Only," sighed Mrs. Neville, "I wish he had been your first love." "Nay, that is foolish, Mamma. Now often have I heard you say that few girls marry their first love." Again Mrs. Neville was silent. "Have you told Mr. Vavasour of this old love, Amy?" asked she presently. "Oh! no, no, Mamma. What good could it do? It would only grieve him; I,--I told him this much, that I--I hoped to love him better in time." "And he was satisfied?" "Quite," answered Amy, "and will you not say you are too, dearest Mamma?" and she laid her head lovingly on her mother's shoulder, and looked entreatingly in her face. "God bless and protect you, my child," said Mrs. Neville fervently, drawing her closer still, and kissing her fondly. "May He guide and strengthen us both, for indeed I am very sorrowful, and scarcely know whether this marriage is for my child's happiness or no; but I pray it may be with all my heart. You have your mother's best, holiest wishes, Amy." So Amy Neville became, with her mother's sanction, Robert Vavasour's affianced wife.