"I could not approve of him either." "Why, guardian! you are grim, and hard to please--well! then there was Tony Willikins; poor Tony! when I was a wild young thing, I took a ride with Tony, and he asked me about his future establishment; about his house, his carriage, his grounds, his furniture; and I gave my opinion--well, to be sure! he built just such a house, ordered just such a carriage, and then came, and asked me to live in his house, and ride in his carriage. I almost laughed in his face; and when I refused, he said that I had encouraged him, because I described the house, and recommended the carriage; I did not think that he was quite such a dunce, but I really felt sorry for Tony; I did not mean any harm--now, guardian, what do you think of Tony Willikins?" Roland smiled at the story, and replied, "I should object no more to this poor fellow with weak intellect, and affectionate heart, than I would to a rich brainless fop, without a heart." "When I went to England," and Madeline's face assumed a more serious, tender expression, "I was introduced to the family of the Earl of N----; it was all that a Christian family ought to be, and there I spent some of the happiest hours of my life. I was domesticated in that household for many weeks, and became much attached to Lady Alice, the eldest daughter. Lord N----, the eldest son, was a bright example of a young English noble; refined, intelligent, pious, and of an extremely prepossessing appearance; we were associated daily; Roland, he learned to love me with all the depth and tenderness of a true, manly nature. I never knew an hour of deeper sorrow, than when compelled to say to that outburst of a warm affection, 'only friendship can I return;' now, guardian, what would you think of him?" They were sitting very near the edge of the shore, and as the waves washed up the sea-weed, Roland took up a bunch, and handing it to Madeline, said, "You remember these flowers of the ocean--how often have I gathered them for you?" "Remember them!" and Madeline opened a small pocket-book, from which she took a few faded weeds, "Ah! how often have these memorials spoken to me, Roland; once I placed them by the side of the splendid bouquet, that Lord N---- used to send me daily--and oh! the difference." "O, Madeline! dare I hope that the giver of these faded weeds was dearer than Lord N----, with all his grandeur and his goodness?" Madeline turned her deep expressive eyes upon Roland's face, as she replied, in trembling tones, "Nothing else could have made me insensible to the worth of Lord Alfred N----; these faded weeds, the sea-shells, the sketch I found once in the library, were more precious to me, more fondly cherished, than all the gifts of gold that have ever been laid at my feet." "Can such blessedness be mine? the wealth of such a heart?"