Fred emptied his glass in one pull, and when he put it on the table there was a flush on his face and a soft light in his eyes. He had formed a most important resolution. Presently he heard Fanny's voice calling to him, and he went out to her in the passage. That diplomatic young lady received him with her finger on her lips, and she closed the dining-room door before she spoke. "She is in there," she whispered, pointing to the drawing-room. "I lit the gas." "Does she wish to see me?" asked Fred, with an exact following of her cautious movements. "She didn't say so," replied Fanny, "but I thought you would like to go to her." "Yes," said Fred, "I will go. You are my best friend, Fanny." "I am a true one, at all events. Oh, Fred!" There was nothing teasing or wilful or capricious in the tone in which these two simple words were uttered. It was fraught with wistful, tremulous feeling, and her eyes were humid with tears. "God bless you, Fanny!" "And you, Fred. No one shall come in." Phoebe looked up as he entered, expecting to see Fanny. He sat down by her side, and said: "I have been anxious about you. Fanny told me you were here. You are better?" "Yes." She would have risen and made an attempt to leave him, not out of coquetry, but maiden modesty, but she had not the strength. "This has been a sad night," said Fred, "but it may prove to be the happiest one in my life, if my heart has not deceived me. May I say to you what my heart dictates?" He construed her silence into assent, and proceeded: "I did not intend to speak yet awhile; I thought I would first make my position--my worldly position--firmer than it is; but I can no longer be silent. Since that happy evening at Parksides I have not been idle, and though my position is not yet quite assured, I am very hopeful; I have really made progress, and I think I can see my way. I have gained some good friends who will help me along, and once the ball is set fairly rolling, it only depends upon a man's ability and industry to keep it rolling till it reaches a home which he can call his own, and where it may be his bright fortune to enjoy the sweetest blessings of life. Industry I have, and I mean to work harder than ever; and I am told I have ability. Whatever be the measure of it, I am sure it will help me to some kind of success; and if the home of which I speak be not at first a very grand one, it will be grand enough for happiness. I ask you to have faith in my earnestness and truth. I love you with my whole heart and soul; I will work for you with my whole heart and soul; I will shield and protect you; I will be true and faithful to you. Will you not answer me? Will you not speak to me?" She raised her eyes timidly to his, and in the tender light that shone therein he saw his answer. He clasped her in his arms; her pulses thrilled with ineffable rapture. "Phoebe!" "Fred!" Her voice was like the whisper of a rose, filling space with sweet music. "You will be my wife, Phoebe?"