A few days from the dispatch of this letter arrived the answer, brought by an express-mounted messenger in advance of the mail. It was a thick packet of many closely-written pages, the concentrated essence of which was that Nellie would follow the advice of Marguerite, whom she loved and honored more than any one else in the world, yes, more than mother and father and lover together; that Marguerite must never wrong her by doubting this, or above all, by being jealous of the colonel, for indeed, after all, Nellie did not like him inordinately; how could she when he was a widower past thirty with two children? And finally, that she would not venture to ask Miss De Lancie to be her bridesmaid, for that would be like requesting a queen to attend her maid of honor in such a capacity; but would Marguerite, her dear Lady Marguerite, come and preside over the marriage of her poor little Nellie? Miss De Lancie sat, for a long time, holding this letter open in her hand, moralizing upon its contents. “The little simpleton--is she only timid, or is she insincere? which after all means--is she weak or wicked? foolish or knavish? And above all, why am I fond of her? why have her brown eyes and her cut of countenance such power to draw and knit my heart to hers?--for indeed though to superficial eyes, hers may be a countenance resplendent with feeling, strong in thought, yet it is a cheat, without depth, without earnestness--let it be said!--without soul. Ay, truly! seeing all this, why do I love her? Because of the ‘strong necessity of loving’ somebody, or something, I suppose,” thought Marguerite, sinking deeper into reverie. These sparks of light elicited by the strokes of Cornelia’s steel-like policy upon the flint of Marguerite’s sound integrity, thus revealed, by flashes, the true character of the former to the latter; but the effect was always transient, passing away with the cause. Miss De Lancie took up the letter and re-read it, with comments as--“I jealous of her lover! truly! I preside over her marriage! Come, I must answer that!” And drawing writing materials before her, she wrote, briefly as before. “I would see you in Gehenna first, you little imbecile. Marguerite.” And sealed and dispatched the letter. This brought Nellie down in person to Plover’s Point, where by dint of caressing, and coaxing, and weeping, she prevailed with Marguerite, who at last exclaimed: “Well, well! go home and prepare for your wedding, Nellie! I’ll come and assist at the farce.” CHAPTER IV. LOVE. “----The soul that moment caught A something it through life had sought.” --MOORE. “Forbear that dream! My lips are sworn apart From tender words; mine ears from lover’s vows; Mine eyes from sights God made so beautiful; My very heart from feelings which move soft.” --E. B. BROWNING.