Our supper table was enlivened by the news that Aunt Hildy brought, all being interested with the exception of Mr. Benton, who was well covered with dignity. Part of that evening, Louis and I spent with Hal and Mary. I longed to tell them all about the letter and Mr. Benton's deceit, but as we entered, Louis whispered, "Let us be discreet," and I answered, "Emily will do it." He was so much wiser that our years told a story when they said "only a month's difference in their ages." Hal and Mary were much interested in the poor lamb, and like ourselves hoped to learn her history, and help her as she must need. Our visits here were always pleasant, and when we said "good night," a sincere "God bless you" rose from our hearts. We entered our sitting-room, to find Clara sitting between mother and father, and the three evidently enjoying a home talk. After we were seated, and a lull in the conversation came, Louis startled me by saying: "Mr. and Mrs. Minot, I want to ask of you a favor--greater than the one granted my little mother; perhaps so great that you will fail to grant it; but it is worth the asking, worth the waiting for through years. May I call Emily my wife?" My father looked strangely, and did not reply for a moment, while mother's face was covered with that pleasant smile, which from earliest years I had considered, "_yes_." Louis' eyes were bent on my father, who, when he answered, said: "You are both young, Louis." "Yes, sir, I know it, and I do not ask to make her my wife now. But I love her, Mr. Minot, and it is not right we should hold a position not sanctioned by you. I shall feel better if you are willing to consider us, as we feel, pledged to each other." "I cannot say _no_, but I have thought--Mr. Benton has asked me the same question, and I hardly know what to say--I said to him, 'If Emily is willing, I will not oppose your suit.'" "Oh!" I cried, "father, he has told such stories!" Louis said: "We can explain that satisfactorily, Mr. Minot, but if there are other objections in your mind, let us know what they are." My father was not a man who expressed himself freely, and Louis was so unlike other young men that he was embarrassed evidently, and there was, as it seemed to me, a long silence ere he said: "I have no objections, Louis. I believe you mean what you say, and also have enough of your mother in you to treat our girl well. I cannot see why your plans may not be carried out so far as I am concerned." He looked at mother, who smiled a consent, and Louis stepped toward them both, shook their hands heartily, and said: "I thank you."