Mr. Hamilton’s manner became more and more marked, and before the expiration of his second visit to Lord Coverdale’s, be one day took courage and spoke his sentiments to Ellen. She received his avowal with all the confusion of a girl who, for the first time, hears expressions of love addressed to her. It was that now, for the first time, she felt the passion herself. She could not deny her preference, and he was made happy by hearing from her own lips that she esteemed him, that she believed she could be happy as his wife. But she persisted in a resolution to see him no more till the two years of her widowhood had expired, and till then not even to correspond with him. He thought her delicacy rather over-strained—he thought her almost prudish—but a man does not love or value a woman the less for erring on the side of decorum, especially when he is confident he has undivided possession of her heart; and the speaking eyes, the trembling hand, the faltering voice, all assured him that such was the case. She made him promise to confide to no one their engagement, and he tore himself away, to get through the four months which intervened as best he might. He almost repented having spoken to her at all, and at moments doubted whether the delightful certainty of being loved quite compensated for the loss of her society. She, on her part, half repented of her decision in banishing him, and quite repented of her prohibition to correspond. Her affection for him increased rapidly in absence. This is frequently the case with women. When in the presence of the person they love, reserve and modesty prevent their freely giving way to what they feel, but in absence they dwell without fear on every word and look, and the imagination supplies food to the feelings. Ellen consulted with herself whether she should impart what had occurred to her sister, and, upon the whole, she thought it best to do so. It seemed unkind to conceal such an important circumstance from one who took so tender an interest in all that concerned her, and, moreover, she should have some one to whom she could expatiate upon the perfections of Mr. Hamilton. Caroline was half angry at not having been at once let into the secret, but she was so pleased at the prospect of her sister’s enjoying such happiness as she now knew, that she soon got over her little vexation. As Ellen expected, she proved an invaluable confidante in one respect; she listened with delight to any tale of love; but in another respect she rendered the task she had imposed upon herself more difficult, as she was constantly arguing with Ellen upon the over-strained delicacy of sending Mr. Hamilton away for the next few months. But the more Ellen longed to break it, the more firmly she adhered to her determination. She accused herself of ingratitude towards him who was the father of her children, in feeling so very happy as she did, and she resolved to pay this tribute of respect to his memory.