“You talk to Mr. Sylvester, and upon such a topic! Oh, I could not bear that. Pardon me, aunt, but I think I am more jealous of his feelings than of my own. If his secret can be learned in a half-hour’s talk, it must be listened to by no one but myself. And I believe it can,” she murmured reverently; “he is so tender of me he would never let me go blindfold into any path, concerning which I had once expressed anxiety. If I ask him whether there is any good reason before God or man why I should not give him my entire faith and homage, he will answer honestly, though it be the destruction of his hopes to do so?” “Have you such trust as that in his uprightness as a lover, and the guardian of your happiness?” “Have not you, aunt?” And Miss Belinda remembering his words on the occasion of his first proposal to adopt Paula, was forced to acknowledge that she had. So without further preliminaries, it was agreed upon that Paula should refrain from making a final decision until she had eased her heart by an interview with Mr. Sylvester. “Meantime, you can request Mr. Ensign to wait another day for his answer,” said Miss Belinda. But Paula with a look of astonishment shook her head. “Is it you who would counsel me to such a piece of coquetry as that?” said she. “No, dear aunt, my heart is not with Mr. Ensign, as you know, and it is impossible for me to encourage him. If Mr. Sylvester should prove unworthy of my affection, I must bear, as best I may, the loss which must accrue; but till he does, let me not dishonor my womanhood by allowing hope to enter, even for a passing moment, the breast of his rival.” Miss Belinda blushed, and drew her niece fondly towards her. “You are right,” said she, “and my great desire for your happiness has led me into error. Honesty is the noblest adjunct of all true love, and must never be sacrificed to considerations of selfish expediency. The refusal which you contemplate bestowing upon Mr. Ensign, must be forwarded to him at once.” And with a final embrace, in which Miss Belinda allowed herself to let fall some few natural tears of disappointment, she dismissed the young girl to her task. XXXIV. PAULA MAKES HER CHOICE. “Good fortune then, To make me bless’t or cursed’st among men.” —MERCHANT OF VENICE. It was evening in the Sylvester mansion. Mr. Sylvester who, according to his understanding with Paula, had been absent from his home all day, had just come in and now stood in his library waiting for the coming footfall that should decide whether the future held for him any promise of joy.