“I know my cousin Felix might become strongly attached to you,” said the count, addressing Charlotte. “He is very fond of talking of you to me—says he should never imagine you to be over thirty.” “So you have been talking of my age. What impertinence!” “He asked me your age,” replied Paul. “Did you tell him I was sixty?” “I told him your exact age, thirty-six. That is really just the flower of life, and it may be written that the family name shall be continued through you, though perhaps Müller would have objections to adopting any other than his own. There is no justice in a woman’s losing her name by marrying.” “Well, I don’t think I would ask him to change his, on the slight and frail expectation of future heirs; that is, supposing there was any question of marriage, which is absurd,” said Miss Charlotte, blushing like a girl in her teens. That blush was a revelation to Paul; but he quickly changed the subject by asking for music. While Clara was singing, and while he was listening too, his mind was busy with a matrimonial scheme for the benefit of his cousin and Miss Delano. One evening a few days later, after Paul had left, Susie scolded Clara for being so cold to him. “Cold! Susie. Why, it seems to me that every word, every tone and look of mine in Paul’s presence, shows clearly that my heart is under his feet, as the Irish song has it.” “Well, dear, they don’t show any such thing. He loves you with adoration; but he is too proud to accept any love that can be won by begging.” “It is just that spirit in Paul that makes me worship him. Oh, Susie! you do not know what he is to me. You cannot know, even after all I have told you. He knows I love him. Why, child, I have fairly, frankly confessed it in a letter not yet two weeks old. He understands me.” “I’m sure I would not make _such_ a man unhappy. He is the only one I ever met whom I would marry instantly, whether I loved him or not. If he wanted me, I should say: take me. You deserve all things, and the greater includes the less.” Clara looked at little Susie, as she spoke in her earnest, soulful way. “Are you very sure that you do _not_ love him, Susie? You have been with him more than I have. Happy woman! to be taken to Europe by him. Why, he has actually kissed you! I don’t know what would happen, if he should kiss me.” “Would you ‘dissolve into an Israelite?’ as Linnie says. By the way, have you not noticed the flirtation going on between young Edward Page and her?”