“It is useless now to deny her gifts and graces.  They are, reluctantly I confess, so rare and so conspicuous—­have so many times been seen, and known, and praised by us all,—­that it would put me in the most foolish of attitudes should I attempt to reconsider a verdict so frequently pronounced, or to eat my own words, uttered a thousand times.

“It is also, I presume, useless to deny that we were well pleased—­nay, delighted—­with Willie’s evident sentiment for her.  Indeed, so thoroughly did she charm me, that, had I not seen how absolutely his heart was enlisted in her pursuit, she is the very girl whom I should have selected, could I have so done, as a wife for Tom and a daughter for myself.

“I knew full well how deep was this feeling for her when he marched away, on that day so full of supreme splendor and pain, unable to see her and to say adieu.  His eyes, his face, his manner, his very voice, marked his restlessness, his longing, and disappointment.  I was positively angry with the girl for thwarting and hurting him so, and, whatever her excuse might be, for her absence at such a time.  How constantly are we quarrelling with our best fates!

“She remained in New York, as you know, for some weeks after the 19th; in fact, has been at home but for a little while.  Once or twice, so provoked with her was I for disappointing our pet, I could not resist the temptation of saying some words about him which, if she cared for him, I knew would wound her:  and, indeed, they did,—­wounded her so deeply, as was manifest in her manner and her face, that I had not the heart to repeat the experiment.

“One week ago I had a letter from Willie, enclosing another to her, and an entreaty, as he had written one which he was sure had miscarried, that I would see that this reached her hands in safety.  So anxious was I to fulfil his request in its word and its spirit, and so certain that I could further his cause,—­for I was sure this letter was a love-letter,—­that I did not forward it by post, but, being compelled to come to Burlington, I determined to go on to Philadelphia, drive out to her home, and myself deliver the missive into her very hands.  A most fortunate conclusion, as you will presently decide.

“Last evening I reached the city,—­rested, slept here,—­and this morning was driven to her father’s place.  For all our sakes, I was somewhat anxious, under the circumstances, that this should be quite the thing; and I confess myself, on the instant of its sight, more than satisfied.  It is really superb!—­the grounds extensive, and laid out with the most absolute taste.  The house, large and substantial, looks very like an English mansion; with a certain quaint style and antique elegance, refreshing to contemplate, after the crude newness and ostentatious vulgarity of almost everything one sees here in America.  It is within as it is without.  Although a great many lovely things are scattered about of recent make, the wood-work and the heavy furniture are aristocratic from their very age, and in their way, literally perfection.