She certainly did look very nice; not smart--for her sober taste preferred quiet colors--but excessively neat and well-dressed. In her new gown of gray "coburg," her one handsome shawl, which had been honored several times by Miss Hilary's wearing, her white straw bonnet and white ribbons, underneath which the smooth black hair and soft eyes showed to great advantage, she appeared, not "like a lady"--a servant can seldom do that let her dress be ever so fine--but like a thoroughly respectable, intelligent, and pleasant-faced young woman. And her blushes came and went so fast, she was so nervous and yet so beamingly happy, that Miss Hilary soon suspected there was more in this visit than at first appeared. Knowing that with Elizabeth's great shyness the mystery would never come out in public, she took an opportunity of asking her to help her in the bedroom, and there, with the folding-doors safely shut, discovered the whole secret. Miss Hilary was a good deal surprised at first. She had never thought of Elizabeth as likely to get married at all--and to Tom Cliffe. "Why, isn't he a mere boy; ever so much younger than you are?" "Three years." "That is a pity--a great pity: women grow old so much faster than men." "I know that," said Elizabeth, somewhat sorrowfully. "Besides, did you not tell me he was very handsome and clever?" "Yes: and I'm neither the one nor the other. I have thought all that over too, many a time; indeed I have, Miss Hilary. But Tom likes me--or fancies he does. Do you think"--and the intense humility which true love always has, struck into Miss Hilary's own conscious heart a conviction of how very true this poor girl's love must be. "Do you think he is mistaken? that his liking me--I mean in that sort of way--is quite impossible?" "No, indeed, and I never said it; never thought it," was the earnest reply. "But consider; three years younger than yourself; handsomer and cleverer than you are--". Miss Hilary stopped; it seemed so cruel to say such things, and yet she felt bound to say them. She knew her former "bower-maiden" well enough to be convinced that if Elizabeth were not happy in marriage she would be worse than unhappy--might grow actually bad. "He loves you now; you are sure of that; but are you sure that he is a thoroughly stable and reliable character? Do you believe he will love you always?" "I can't tell. Perhaps--if I deserved it," said poor Elizabeth.