“No, it shall not be!” said she, as she sat alone in her room with her face resting upon her hands; “it shall not be! I will thwart her and she shall never triumph over me, as did her pale-faced sister, but for whom I might now have borne the title of Mrs. instead of trembling lest some one should ask how old I am!” And the proud belle felt a pang of envy towards my poor widowed sister whose heart was buried in the grave of her unfortunate husband. Not that she (Ada) had ever cared particularly for Herbert Langley, but women of the world sometimes bestow their hand where the heart cannot be given, and thus might she have done had not circumstances prevented, for she had then no hope of ever winning her guardian. Here, ere we proceed farther, it may be well to relate briefly her past history, going back to the time when on his death-bed her father had not only given her to the charge of Mr. Delafield, but had also made a request that, if it were consistent with his feelings, Richard would one day make her his wife. As we have said elsewhere, Mr. Delafield was a great admirer of beauty, and when he looked upon the exceedingly lovely face of the youthful Ada, and thought of her as a lonely orphan, his heart was touched, and he found no difficulty in promising to protect her, and also to make her his wife, if, upon a more intimate acquaintance, he found her all he could wish her to be. That he did not find her thus was proved by the fact that nearly ten years had elapsed since her father’s death, and she was Ada Montrose still, while he, as he grew older, seemed less likely to find any one who fully came up to his standard of excellence, beauty, in reality, now being of minor importance, notwithstanding his sister’s assertion that he would never marry one who had not a pretty face.