“I know it, Zuleime! Dear, candid girl, I know it all—all the seeming error! But, Zuleime, I am going away to-day,” (she looked up in surprise,) “and I may be gone for several years. When I come back I shall certainly return a captain, if not probably a major, or possibly a colonel. Before I go, I wish to have a fair understanding with yourself and your father, so that I may go away with some feeling of security. I want you both to promise that when I return you will give me your hand.” “You may speak to father, Frank. But I tell you frankly now, what I wish you had heard before. It is this:—that I have been promised to my grim cousin, Major Cabell, ever since I can remember anything. And till you came, I have always, whenever I have anticipated the future at all, looked forward to being his hum-drum wife, and living in a grim three-story red brick, in a row, and opposite another row of stiff, prison-like red brick houses, each one of which, taken singly, is more dreary than all the rest. I didn’t like the prospect, Frank; but I thought it was my fate, and the best father could do for me, and so I thought of no other possibility but the grim red brick house in the city and Major Cabell. Besides, father is so good a father, and so fond and indulgent, that it seemed _too_ wicked to think of disappointing his gentle wishes, that never take the form of commands. And so, Frank, although whenever I would think of the grim brick house, with tall dark chambers, and the narrow, stony, distracting street before it, and Major Cabell, my heart would sink very heavy, and I would think, young as I was, that there was scarcely any hope for me at all—yet, I would recollect my dear good father wished it, and I would pluck up my spirits and feel blithe as a bird again. It was all understood at the school where I am getting finished, as they call it. And father left word that Major Cabell should be admitted to visit me. So when I am there he comes to visit me frequently, and takes me out riding, or driving, and to concerts. And the girls whisper together, and say that I am engaged—” “Stop—stop—stop—stop! Pardon me, Zuleime! Pardon me, dear girl! But, I am giddy—indeed, I am ill! Have you yourself promised to marry him?”