“This is very strange, Alice,” replied her father; “and, I am afraid, rather foolish, too. There is nothing in his face, person, manner, or conversation that, in my opinion, is not calculated to attract any young woman in his own rank of life--at least, I think so.” “Well, but the poor child,” said her mother, “knows nothing about love--how could she? Sure, my dear Alley, true love never begins until after marriage. You don't know what a dislike I had to your father, there, whilst our friends on both sides were making up the courtship. They literally dragged me into it.” “Yes, Alley,” added her father, smiling, “and they literally dragged me into it; and yet, when we came together, Alice, there never was a happier couple in existence.” Alice could not help smiling, but the smile soon passed away. “That may be all very true,” she replied, “but in the meantime, you must not press me on this subject. Don't entertain it for a moment. I shall never marry this man. Put an end to it--see his mother, and inform her, without loss of time, of the unalterable determination I have made. Do not palter with them, father---do not, mother; and above all things, don't attempt to sacrifice the happiness of your only daughter. I could make any sacrifice for your happiness but this; and if, in obedience to your wishes, I made it, I can tell you that I would soon be with my sister. You both know that I am not strong, and that I am incapable of severe struggles. Don't, then, harass me upon this matter.” She here burst into tears, and for a few minutes wept bitterly. “We must give it up,” said her father, looking at Mrs. Goodwin.” “No such thing,” replied his wife; “think of our own case, and how happy we have been in spite of ourselves.” “Ay, but we were neither of us fools, Martha; at least you were not, or you would never have suffered yourself to be persuaded into matrimony, as you did at last. There was, it is true, an affected frown upon your brow; but then, again, there was a very sly smile under it. As for me, I would have escaped the match if I could; but no matter, it was all for the best, although neither of us anticipated as much. Alice, my child, think of what we have said to you; reflect upon it. Our object is to make you happy; our experience of life is much greater than yours. Don't reply to us now; we will give you a reasonable time to think of it. Consider that you will add to your mother's happiness and mine by consenting to such an unobjectionable match. This young man will, of course, inherit his uncle's property; he will elevate you in life; he is handsome, accomplished, and evidently knows the world, and you can look up to him as a husband of whom you will have a just right to feel proud. Allow the young man to visit you; study him as closely as you may; but above all things do not cherish an unfounded antipathy against him or any one.”