I thought of Mrs. Lansing. She was a woman—she had been kind to me of late, and after a few moments’ reflection I determined to ask her advice. This being settled, I fell into a disturbed sleep, from which I did not wake until the bell was ringing for breakfast. I met him at the table, and my heart beat fast when I saw how anxiously he scanned my haggard face. “You are sick this morning,” he said, when at last we were alone. Taking my hand he felt my quickened pulse, and continued, “This must not be. Calm yourself down, for I would not wish you to answer me under all this excitement.” Soon after this he left me, going down to the hotel where he had first stopped on his arrival at W——. As soon as he was gone I sought an interview with Mrs. Lansing, to whom I confided the whole story of my former love for Dr. Clayton, and of my feelings now, asking her to tell me as a friend what I should do. I did not dare look her in the face while I was talking, and when I had finished I waited with downcast eyes for her answer, which was characteristic of a woman who had never known what love was, save as she felt it for her children. “Do! Why, marry him of course. I should not hesitate a moment, for ’tis not every girl in your circumstances who has an offer like that. He seems to be a perfect gentleman,—is certainly very fine looking—is refined, polished, highly educated, and has a good profession. What more can you desire?” “_Love_ for him,” I replied; and she continued, “Pshaw! _That_ will come soon enough, depend upon it. There are many happy marriages where one of the parties had at first no particular affection for the other, as I myself can testify. I _respected_ Mr. Lansing, when I married him, but I did not _love_ him, and our union was, I am confident, far happier than three-fourths of those where _love_ is the ruling motive, for in nine cases out of ten they grow sick of each other as faults and peculiarities are brought to light, of whose existence they had never dreamed. Take your own case for an example. Suppose you had married Dr. Clayton when you fancied him so much, you would undoubtedly have been disgusted with him by this time, whereas, now that you know he is fallible, you can safely link your destiny with his, feeling sure that in good time the love you once had for him will return.” I knew there was some truth in this argument, but it failed to convince me, and I remained silent until Mrs. Lansing startled me with, “You do not of course love another?” I was taken by surprise, and without a thought of the result, I answered “I do.” “And that other?” she continued, fixing her eyes upon me. I know not what possessed me, but a power I could not resist impelled me to answer, “Is your brother.”