When the two friends were alone, Emilius turned again into the retired walk, and said, "Can you tell me why it is that to-day, which is or ought to be the happiest of my life, I feel so deeply depressed? Whatever you may think of me, I assure you I am not fit for the duties that devolve on me; I have no skill to move up and down a crowd of people with a civil speech for every one; entertain all these hosts of her and my relations, with respects for fathers and mothers, and compliments for ladies; receive visitors, and see that horses and servants are taken care of--I cannot do it." "Oh, all that goes right of itself," said Roderick. "Your house is capitally arranged for that sort of thing. There is your steward, a famous fellow, with omnipotence and omnipresence in his hands and legs; he is made on purpose to arrange these matters, and see large parties taken care of, and put properly in their places: leave it all to him and your pretty bride." "This morning," said Emilius, "I was walking before sunrise in the plantation here: my thoughts had taken a very serious turn, for I felt, to the bottom of my soul, that my life was now become fixed and definite, and that this love had given me a home and a calling. As I approached the summer-house yonder, I heard voices. It was my beloved in earnest conversation. 'Has it not turned out as I predicted?' said a strange voice; 'exactly as I knew it must be? you have your wishes, so be content.' I could not prevail on myself to go in to them; and afterwards, when I came to the summer-house again, they were both gone. I can do nothing but think and think what these words could mean." "Very likely she has long loved you," said Roderick, "and you have not known any thing about it: all the better for you." At that moment a late nightingale began to sing, as if to wish all joy and good fortune to the lovers. Emilius became more and more gloomy. "Come down with me into the village yonder," said Roderick; "I will shew you something to amuse you. You are not to suppose you are the only man that is to be made happy to-day. There is a second pretty couple. A young scamp, it seems, what with opportunity and having nothing else to do, got upon too intimate terms with a damsel that might be his mother, and the fool thinks he is in duty bound to make her an honest woman. They'll have dressed themselves out by this time. The scene will be rich; I would not miss it for the world."