There was so much of artless, tender interest in Madeline's manners, that often the thought would cause a thrill of rapture as hope whispered, "She loves me, this peerless child of Nature! this fresh, guileless young heart! But it cannot be--be silent, foolish heart! But it is a joy to guide, to counsel, to comfort, even to hear her voice," and gradually he sank into silence. Madeline's spirits were gay--taking Roland's arm, they walked home quietly together. It had been a happy hour! But Roland awoke as from a dream, when Madeline named her property; with that, came the incubus that always lay as a shadow between him and his darling's warm young heart. Chilled by its icy breath, he remained quiet. "Why are you so silent, my good sir?" inquired Madeline; "it seems that you have left all your spirits at the Battery." "I was looking some very painful thoughts right in the face, Madeline; there are some things that I must get accustomed to, but it is not an easy task." "Can I help you, Roland?" and she turned a kindly look upon his troubled face. "_You_, help me, Madeline! No--it is beyond your power," and he looked deeply pained. "There is nothing, Roland, that I would not do, to lighten your cares, if I only knew what they were." "Never mind, my good little friend, there is a refuge for every care; I have tried it very often, and it has never failed--no, not once." By this time, they had reached the door of Madeline's stopping-place. "Good evening, Madeline, God bless you!" "I shall see you to-morrow, Roland--shall I not? I will then tell you all about Harry." "Yes, I will see you,"--and Roland turned away to kiss the sweet little bunch of hearts'-ease, murmuring, "not for me! would that she were penniless;" while Madeline went up-stairs, humming a low, soft tune, as she whispered, "What a dear, kind guardian!" Would she have echoed Roland's wish, had she known this to be the only barrier between two pure young, loving hearts? True to her sense of right, she sent a short note without delay to Harry Castleton, requesting the favor of an early call next morning. Harry loved Madeline as much as his weak nature would allow him to love any one beside himself, and had borne much contempt from her even meekly; therefore, he obeyed the summons, wondering what change had come over his proud cousin. "I sent for you, Harry, to apologize for my conduct; I am heartily ashamed of it--it was unwomanly, unchristian, and uncalled for. I hope, Cousin Harry, that you will forgive me; you know what a proud, high temper I have, and must attribute all that I said to that infirmity." Harry looked amazed--he had never before seen Madeline so humble herself to any body, and he wondered what it really could mean.