"There are some scenes, Madeline, written upon the tablets of memory with a diamond pen, and that afternoon was one; the face of the bright child, with her generous impulses and her scorn of meanness, the stained handkerchief, and the tender touch of the dimpled hand have been with me ever since; to this have been added the bright, wild, untamed intellect that interested me in Maple Lane School, the docile pupil coming to me with such winning grace. I see the folded hands and downcast eyes even now; the mischievous little sprite that loved bewitching pranks; the gay young girl who, amid all the blandishments of wealth, still nobly cheering my way; the riper woman, with her noble heart, at last bowing at the foot of the cross, and pouring out its love on all around her. These, Madeline, have been with me always--cheering, blessing, soothing." "All this, Roland, under the leading hand of a wondrous Providence, you have done; sometimes I was led away, but for what a short period! These early lessons are never forgotten; and even in England, where I was surrounded by so much more to tempt, my heart, true as the needle to the pole, turned back with all its freshness to those early memories and their teachings." Roland sat in silence for a moment, his heart filled with unutterable love--could it be duty to throw from him this gem of priceless worth, this young, warm, guileless woman's heart? and yet as a flash darted through his brain, the thought that would obtrude--as her guardian, acquainted with the extent of her possessions, might he not be thought selfish, mercenary? "And now you see, good sir, you are my grave and reverend guardian, and must know all about your ward," and Madeline flashed upon him one of her arch glances of mischief; "if a young lady has offers of marriage, I suppose that she ought to tell her guardian--is not that so?" and she continued, smiling, "and always ask his advice about such matters, for I have something of the kind to tell now." Roland dropped his eyes, and moved away from the young lady, lest she should see his emotion, and replied seriously, "I shall always be interested in whatever concerns you, Madeline, and will advise here, as elsewhere, truly, faithfully." "Well! to begin--Harry Castleton is one of my devoted--he has offered himself three times, and has as often been refused; for you know, guardian, that I could never love him, but I am going to treat him better; I have made a good beginning; what do you think of him for Madeline?" "Think, Madeline! I should never cease to mourn over such a union--it could never be." "Amen!" said Madeline, archly; "and then there was Mr. Livingston, of New York, that all the belles were dying for; a man of wealth, rank, fashion, and intelligence; not caring much for the gay world--what do you think of him?" "Did you love him, Madeline?" "No--not exactly; and I used to think it was very strange! he was so handsome and attractive! but what do you say about him?"