"And mine, dear Roland! it seems too much of earthly good to know that you are all my own, not only as my friend, but my dearest, truest love." "And can you, with all your wealth and attractions, turn from so much, and give your heart to me? I have not much to offer, Madeline; it is true that my dear friend, Uncle Malcolm, placed me above the reach of need, but nothing compared to the heiress of Woodcliff; I fear the judgment of your aunt; would that you were penniless." "I want nothing but yourself, Roland; only your pure and noble self; have we not loved each other always? and yet there was a time when I was afraid of Helen Thornly." "And when I was afraid of Lord N----; for I saw his worth, and his attractions, Madeline; and knew that you were with him daily while I was absent." "What would your father think of such a choice, Madeline?" "He was willing, in such a matter, to trust his daughter; dear, noble father! he respected you, Roland, always; and I believe, if he were living, he would smile upon us." "Look at me, darling!" said Roland, "let me see those dear eyes, those truthful, earnest eyes, just turned on me, as full of love and tenderness as in days gone by;" (for Madeline had dropped her head, and bent her eyes upon the ground.) She raised them to Roland's face, and in the deep look of perfect trust and tenderness, he saw what that hour had revealed to him. Taking both hands within his own, and looking up to heaven, he prayed that God would bless this sweet union of two young souls that had been so long as one. "This is a love, Madeline, which will stretch forward to eternity; it will be companionship on earth in all that is pure and holy, to be perfected in the world above." One sweet, pure caress, one fond kiss sealed this heart union; and taking her arm within his own, they turned their steps homeward. "Let us just listen for one moment to the music of the ocean, Roland; it is a grand old organ, with its deep, mysterious chords; it has murmured many solemn hymns for us, many a varied melody--sometimes gentle summer lullabies, sometimes wails like funeral dirges--what does it waft us to-night?" "Nothing but soft, sweet hymns of harmony, Maddy; bidding us praise our Father and our God." Old Peter had been watching the young people, in whom he was so much interested; he saw the deep-absorbing interest of that interview; the tender caress, and the slow step as they moved away, and he said to himself, "This is just what I thought would come of hoarding up old shoes. God bless them! they are a dear young pair, and deserve to be happy. What a handsome couple they will make! And they are both so good! It puts me in mind of Becky and me in our young days," and the old man wiped a moistened eye with his rough coat-sleeve.