“No, surely not; and that is the reason why I consider myself in some sort _free_—but of my duty to my good father. No, he has never even asked me. He considers my father’s promise quite sufficient, and our marriage quite a matter of course. And so I used to consider it, too. These things are often done, Frank. These betrothals, I mean. Any one might suppose the custom obsolete—having died in the dark ages. It is not. It prevails here to a considerable extent. It is done to keep family property together, or family interest closely cemented. And, Frank, he has never courted me yet. You see he considers me a child still. And so I am, compared to him, in years. And so I should be, in all things, a child, but that the shadow of that grim brick house is always falling on my heart!” “And yet, with all this, you are a very, very merry maiden!” “Yes, so I am. I try to be! I keep a din up in my head to prevent me hearing what my heart wants to say! Goodness! I can do nothing for the poor thing, you know, and what’s the use of stopping to listen to its cry?—_that_ would only encourage it to complain the more. Don’t look so sorry, Frank! It is not all effort! It could not be, you know. I’m naturally of a glad, elastic temper; and but for this drawback, Heaven knows what I should be! the wildest, maddest, most harem-scarem, most heels-over-head, skip-over-the-moon madcap that ever turned a quiet home topsy-turvy, and drove a quiet family to distraction! The Bible says,—‘God loveth whom He chasteneth, and scourgeth every son (and daughter) whom He receiveth.’ Then I think, (I _do_ think, sometimes, young and volatile as I am,) I think that every one whom God redeems has _some_ sorrow, and that sorrow is always the precise one fitted to cure their besetting sin! As the proud are still kept down by poverty and oppression, the vain lose their charms, or the power of enhancing them, etc., etc., etc., among all the erring whom God designs to set right. And I, who am naturally so wild and thoughtless, must be sobered and made thoughtful by the prospect of that prison before me!” “Zuleime, does this man love you?”