Magnus knew that, and caught her, strained her to his bosom, pressed kisses on her brow, her cheeks, her lips, in the delirious joy of “first and passionate love.” And Elsie broke from his arms and ran from the room suffused with blushes, trembling with a strange, painful, blissful tumult. All that evening Elsie wandered about upstairs, or sat dreaming, half in terror, half in joy, until her mother came in and asked of what she was thinking so deeply? Elsie started, and blushed violently. Alice took both her hands and gazed deeply into her face. At that earnest and tender mother’s gaze, the tears sprung into Elsie’s eyes, and then, as struck by something ludicrous in herself or her position, Elsie laughed. Alice pressed her hands, and released them, saying: “It is time to dress, my dear Elsie, your father expects you in the parlor. Let me fix your hair; it is in sad disorder.” And she smoothed and twined the rich ringlets around her fingers, letting them drop in long tendrils of golden auburn. And then she arranged her dress of purple cashmere, and they went below to the lighted parlor, where General Garnet and Magnus awaited them. The general and Magnus were engaged in a political discussion, but Magnus broke off and came at once to meet them. Elsie, with a bright blush, turned away and walked to a distant table, where she ensconced herself with her tambour frame. But from that day Elsie gradually changed. She kept out of the way of Magnus most sedulously. The courtship became a regular hunt. All Magnus’ ingenuity was employed in devising how he could circumvent Elsie’s arch and saucy prudery, and entrap her into a little lover’s talk or walk. And all Elsie’s tact was engaged in devising means to avoid without offending Magnus. And so days went on, until one day it fell like ice upon the warm heart of Magnus, that Elsie might not love him except as a brother; and oh! he thought of her first, free, fond, sisterly affection for him, until the evening upon which he first declared his passion, and then of her calm agreement to marry him because their lands joined, and her cold avoidance of him ever since. “Yes,” he said to himself, “it is too true. Elsie does not love me. I am wooing an unwilling bride. Shall I continue to do so? Shall I marry her and seal her misery? No, my God! No, though she is the first and last hope of my life, I will resign her if that will make her happy.” And so Magnus suddenly abandoned the pursuit of Elsie, and grew thoughtful, sorrowful, pale, and weary-looking.