“If that form of expression suits you best, use it, by all means; I have no objection.”

“Then I shall act upon your advice immediately, Arthur Bernard,” and the voice at once became deeply solemn and earnest.  “Are you willing to resign to my fondest, my tenderest care, your only and beloved sister Ella, to whom I am aware you are so deeply attached, and who returns your affection with all the warmth of her loving nature.”

Arthur Bernard, could not reply.  He was bewildered, stunned, at the intelligence.  From the very depth and agony of despair, to be raised to the very summit of hope, was almost too much for poor human nature to bear.  His friend observed his emotion, but attributed it to a very different cause, and his countenance, so joyous a moment before, clouded instantly.

“I see,” he said, in a low and mournful tone, “that this does not meet your wishes, nor can I wonder at it, for I feel I am not worthy of so precious a gift, except for the intense love I bear her,—­a love which, I trust, if permitted, shall be manifested in every action of my future life.”

“Not meet my wishes!  You have totally mistaken me, my friend, my brother, as I would now joyfully call you,” pressing fervently his companion’s hand as he spoke; “you are worthy of my darling Ella, my beloved sister, and there is none other, to whom I could yield her less reluctantly than yourself.  With a brother’s blessing I commit her to you, and as she has been to me the most faithful and affectionate of sisters, so, I am sure, you will find her the truest and most devoted of wives.”

There was a pause.  Both the gentlemen were affected, and they continued their walk, which had been extended to a solitary part of the city’s suburbs, for some time in silence, which Ernest was the first to break.

“I cannot thank you in words; they are too poor to express how I estimate this frank and generous consent; my actions will, I trust, show how truly I appreciate it.  Forgive me, Arthur, for my unjust suspicions, but I imagined when I commenced the conversation, that you suspected the nature of my embassy, and by cold looks and words strove to divert me from speaking in plainer terms, and forcing you to a denial of my request.”

Arthur was slightly embarrassed, and his companion looked at him, wondering what could thus discompose his usually sedate friend.

“The truth is,” he said after a pause, “that I totally misunderstood you, so you see there has been a mutual mistake.  I have been blind, indeed, but I had not the slightest idea that you entertained any feeling but friendship for Ella.”

“And pray, then, if you will permit me to inquire,” and there was something mischievous in the speaker’s glance and tone, “to whom did you imagine I alluded, when I informed you that, woman, dear woman, was the prize so much coveted?”

“Well, I did think,” and the speaker’s hesitancy was not by any means unobserved by his friend, “for report affirmed, that Miss Wiltshire was the lady to whom you intended to vow life-long allegiance.”