“And don’t you know, then, how tenderly I should cherish your orphan child? I have two sons; but no daughter; I should take Margaret to my heart as a much-desired daughter,” said Nellie, earnestly, and at that moment, in that mood, she sincerely meant all she said. “Thank you, dear Nellie. Margaret will, at the age of eighteen, inherit the greater portion of my patrimony, including Plover’s Point, which has been secured to her. This will make her independent. Upon the demise of her father--long and happily may he yet live--she will come into the possession of one of the largest fortunes in the South. Ralph’s expectations, I know, are nearly equal; therefore, deny her no indulgence, no wish of her heart that wealth can satisfy; for Margaret is not selfish or exacting, and will make no unreasonable demands. But how I twaddle. Have the soul of kindness toward my orphan girl, and that will teach you what to do.” “Don’t doubt me, Marguerite. I will swear to you if you require it,” said Nellie, who believed herself to be as constant as she was fervent. “It is enough! Is Ralph here?” “Yes, dearest Marguerite.” “Let him be called at once.” Nellie flew to do her friend’s bidding, and swiftly returned with Mr. Houston. “Draw near, dearest Ralph; look in my face; but do not look so shocked; you read what is before me, and what I wish you to do; you have seen my husband’s letter to your father; there is another, which came yesterday to me; Margaret will show it to you; go to her, dearest Ralph; she has read her father’s letter, and is prepared to hear what you have to say; go to her now, for I would join your hands before sunset; do not leave her again until I leave her; and then take her with you to your parents’ home to await her father’s coming. And oh! Ralph! as you hope for the blessing of God at your greatest need, comfort your orphan bride, as only you can comfort her.” “As God hears me!” said Ralph Houston, reverently, dropping upon one knee, and bending his noble head over the wan hand the lady had extended to him. “Go to her now, Ralph, for I would join your hands before sunset.” Ralph pressed the wasted fingers to his lips, arose and went out, in search of Margaret. He found the maiden alone in her mother’s favorite parlor. Dr. Hartley had gone out to send messengers for Mr. Wellworth and Colonel Houston to come immediately to the island, if they wished to see Mrs. Helmstedt once more in life. And Margaret had thrown herself down upon the sofa in solitude, to give way to the torrent of grief that she had so heroically suppressed in the sickroom of her mother. Ralph Houston entered the sacred precincts of her filial grief as reverently as he had left the death-chamber of her mother. He closed the door softly, advanced and knelt an instant to press a pure kiss upon her tearful face; then rising, he lifted her tenderly, from the sofa, and gathered her to his bosom.