“How strange,” said he, as he looked it over. “Do you know, Agnes, before I wedded you I might have married many a woman of wealth, but I would not unite myself with a lady who would not honor me by giving me sole control of all her possessions.” “Well, Richard,” answered I, laughing, “you can control mine if you like. It matters little to me who holds the deed, so long as my dominion over the young ladies is not invaded.” “That is what I expected of your, loving nature, Agnes, and yet I suppose you would hesitate to convey your property to me.” “No; why should I?” I exclaimed. “I will go with you to an attorney this moment, if you desire it.” “Well, come, we shall see; get your bonnet,” said he gaily. I tied on my bonnet, and accompanied him down the street into a little dingy office in a narrow thoroughfare. At the door, laying his hand upon my shoulder, he said jokingly: “Agnes, go back, I was only trying you; I wanted to see if you meant what you said.” “Of course I meant it, and I will not go back till it is done.” “Well, well, you must have your own way, I see!” and with a gay, exulting smile he led me into the office. I signed the paper giving to him the house and lands, and was glad when it was done, for I felt that it might atone for any suspicion or doubt of his goodness which had crossed my mind, for he had made me very happy since our marriage. I returned to my school and its duties. In the interval between the recitations, I had time to reflect. I had acted impulsively, and perhaps unfairly. What right had I to give away a property given to me for an especial purpose? Had I done right? That was the question which annoyed me--the question which constantly thrust itself before me during the live-long day. My sleep that night was disturbed. The form of the elder Mr. Bristed appeared in my dreams. He seemed to reproach me by his looks, and when I endeavored to speak to him, vanished from my sight. Richard had left me after my signing the paper. He told me he was obliged to leave town on business, and I had no one to council with. My own thoughts startled me; I became nervous, and finally quite ill. CHAPTER XV. At length, after two days of unrest and self-condemnation, I quieted myself with the assurance that I would go to the Hall and see Mr. Bristed; then also I could see dear Herbert, to whom my heart went often out with longing. His name was never mentioned between Richard and myself. I avoided the subject; a dread which I could not overcome forbade me to speak of it. But now a strange, irrepressible desire to see the child filled my mind.