Arthur, at Emmeline’s own desire, conducted his bride at once to the small yet comfortable home which had been prepared for her in his vicarage on Lord St. Eval’s estate.  That her residence was so near them was a great source of pleasure to both her parents, and the feeling that her home was in the centre of all she loved, not only so near the beloved guardians of her infancy but Caroline and St. Eval, would have added to her cup of joy, had it not been already full to overflowing; the pang of parting was thus soothed to both mother and child.  Even more than Caroline, Mrs. Hamilton felt she should miss the gentle girl, who scarcely from her infancy had given her one moment’s pain; but in the happiness of her child she too was blessed, and thankfully she raised her voice to Him whose blessing, in the rearing of her children, she had so constantly and fervently implored, and the mother’s fond and yearning heart was comforted.

Though Ellen had smiled, and seemed to every eye but that of her watchful aunt the same as usual the whole of that day, yet Mrs. Hamilton could not resist the impulse that bade her seek her when all had retired to their separate apartments.  Ellen had been gone some time, but she was sitting in a posture of deep thought, in which she had sunk on first entering her room.  She did not observe her aunt, and Mrs. Hamilton traced many tears slowly, almost one by one, fall upon her tightly-clasped hands, ere she found voice to speak.

“Ellen, my sweet child!”

Ellen sprung up, she threw herself into those extended arms, and hid her tearful eyes on her aunt’s bosom.

“I have but you now, my own Ellen, to cheer my old age and enliven our deserted hearth.  You must not leave me yet, dearest.  I cannot part with you.”

“Oh, no, no; I will never, never leave you.  Your home shall be my home, my more than mother; and where you go, Ellen will follow,” she murmured, speaking unconsciously in the spirit of one of the sweetest characters the Sacred Book presents.  “Do not ask me to leave you; indeed, indeed, no home will be to me like yours.”

“Speak not, then, so despondingly, my Ellen,” replied Mrs. Hamilton, fondly kissing her.  “Never shall you leave me without your own full and free consent.  Do you remember, love, when I first promised that?” she continued, playfully; for she sought not to draw from Ellen the secret of her love, she only wished to soothe, to cheer, to tell her, however unrequited might be her affections, still she was not desolate, and when she left her, fully had she succeeded.  Ellen was comforted, though she scarcely knew wherefore.

Some few months passed after the marriage of Emmeline, and the domestic peace of Oakwood yet remained undisturbed.  There were times when Ellen hoped she had been deceived, that Herbert had been deceived himself.  But Myrvin dared not hope; he was not with his friend as constantly as Ellen was, and almost every time he beheld him he fancied he perceived an alarming change.