Morton’s importunity, however, prevailed; the kind-hearted friend, melted by the sight of his distress, promised to procure him a private interview with Miss Martin. Great was Jessie’s agitation when she received Mrs Jameson’s communication. She had resolutely and firmly avoided meeting Morton, ever since her eyes had been opened to the nature of her feelings towards him, which she considered it her bounden duty to repress, as a proper sacrifice to principle; but the struggle was a severe one—the arrow rankled deeper than she suspected. She was sitting alone, when Morton, by Mrs Jameson’s invitation, entered the cabin. A crimson flush overspread her cheek, which as quickly left it again. She was looking very pale, and received him with visible agitation. It was in a tremulous and low tone of voice, that Morton first began to address her; but, as he proceeded, his countenance glowed, and his words followed each other in such a rapid and fervent torrent, that she in vain attempted to interrupt him. He described the impression her first appearance had made upon his heart, the charm he had experienced in her society, and the gradual, yet rapid growth of his admiration and esteem upon a closer acquaintance with her character. He dwelt long and deeply upon the grief her apparent estrangement had occasioned him, begged her to forgive him if he had in any way given her cause of offence, explained to her his circumstances and views in life, and ended by laying his heart and fortune at her feet. “Mr Morton,” replied she, “I would fain have spared myself and you the pain of this meeting; but I owed it to you, to make some reparation for the error into which I have unfortunately led you; otherwise, I would have deputed my friend to take upon her a duty so distressing to my own feelings. Severely do I now blame myself for having so inconsiderately indulged in the pleasure which your society afforded me. I mistook your feelings. I looked upon you as a friend, and I forgot how near akin friendship is to love. Forgive me, Mr Morton!—I never can be yours—I am the affianced bride of another.” “Affianced!” exclaimed Morton, pressing his hand upon his brow, and absolutely gasping with oppression of feelings. “O heaven! I did not expect this, Miss Martin. But is your heart in the engagement?” Jessie burst into tears. “Urge me no farther, Mr Morton—my fate is in the hands of another. Henceforth, we must be as strangers to each other—Adieu!” And she glided into an inner apartment. Morton gazed after her for a moment, and then with a heavy heart left the cabin. His friend Hardy found him sitting, with his face buried in his hands upon the table, and eagerly and affectionately inquired the cause of his distress. Morton related to him all that had passed, and ended with saying—“And now, there is no more happiness for me in this world.” “My dear fellow,” said his friend, “I give you joy.”