"Oh, Ishmael, tell me truly one thing;" and she hid her face on his shoulder while she breathed the question: "Isn't it only for my sake, to please me and make me happy, that you offer me your love, Ishmael?" She spoke so low, with her face so muffled on his shoulder, that he scarcely understood her; so he bent his head and inquired: "What is it that you say, dear Bee?" She tried to speak more clearly, for it seemed with her a point of principle to put this question; but her voice was, if possible, lower and more agitated than before, so that he had to stoop closely and listen intently to catch her words as she answered: "Do you not offer me your love, only because--because you have found out--found out somehow or other that I--that I loved you first?" He clasped her suddenly close to his heart, and whispered eagerly: "I offer you my love because I love you, best and dearest of all dear ones!" And he felt at that moment that he did love her entirely. She was sobbing softly on his shoulder; but presently through her tears she said: "And will my love do you any good, make you any happier, compensate you a little for all that you have missed in losing that brilliant one?" He held her closely to his heart while he stooped and answered: "Dearest, your love has always been the greatest earthly blessing Heaven ever bestowed upon my life! I thank Heaven that the blindness and madness of my heart is past and gone, and I am enabled to see and understand this! Your love, Bee, is the only earthly thing that can comfort all the sorrows that may come into my life, or crown all its joys. You will believe this, dearest Bee, when you remember that I never in my life varied from the truth to anyone, and least of all would I prevaricate with you. I love you. Bee, let those three words answer all your doubts!" Brightly and beautifully she smiled up at him through her tears. "All is well, then, Ishmael! For all that I desire in this world is the privilege of making you happy!" "Then you are my own!" he said, stooping and kissing the sparkling tears that hung like dew-drops on the red roses of her cheeks; and holding her to his heart, in profound religious joy and gratitude, he bowed his head and said: "Oh, Father in Heaven! how I thank thee for this dear girl! Oh, make me every day more worthy of her love, and of thy many blessings!" And soon after this Ishmael, happier than he ever thought it possible to be in this world, led forth from the arbor his betrothed bride. He led her at once to the house and to the presence of her parents, whom he found in their private sitting room. Standing before them and holding her hand, he said: "She has promised to be my wife, and we are here for your blessing." "You have it, my children! You have it with all my heart! May the Lord in heaven bless with his choicest blessings Ishmael and Beatrice!" said Mr. Middleton earnestly. "Amen," said Mrs. Middleton.