presence of our assembled friends on the night of our public betrothal. I never saw him alone till after the marriage ceremony was performed." "But, Madame," persisted Hilda, "I cannot love your son. I have no wish to marry-in plain words, I will not marry—any one! And I am quite sure that neither of my aunts nor my uncle will endeavour to constrain me. All I ask is to be allowed to remain as I am." "I never heard such nonsense in my life. Child! this is the very quintessence of folly. Refuse to be honour ably established! Refuse Louis Michaud-my son!" "I am so sorry, Madame; I never thought of anything of the kind. But indeed it must not be; I would not do M. Louis so great a wrong as to accept his proposals. You will be so good as to tell him so!" For once Hilda blessed the French fashion, which laid the onus of proposing on the prétendu's mother. She was thankful she had not to deal with Louis himself, and yet she must meet him; he would perhaps scheme to see her alone, and plead his cause in person. That very morning she had received the invitation to Bradenshope, and had almost decided not to accept it, as she felt her duty pointed her to the Grey House. "I must consult Aunt Rose," she said to herself; "perhaps it might be best to go to Bradenshope just now? What could make Louis Michaud think of me? Ah! was that what made Flossie so strange, I wonder!" CHAPTER XXV. GOING TO BRADENSHOPE. "Unstable as water, thou shalt not excel." "AUNT DOROTHY, shall I go to Bradenshope, or come back to you ?" asked Hilda, later in the day, Mrs. Dorothy having walked over to the Blue House to ascertain how matters were really going on. "One thing is certain-I cannot remain here just now. Oh, dear! oh, dear! why will people fall in love, and upset everything? and I was getting to feel so friendly with Louis, counting him the same as Theodore, only older. It is very provoking, Aunt Dorothy, is it not?” "It is rather tiresome, I must confess; that is, if thou art perfectly sure thou knowest thy own mind, Hilda? Louis Michaud would make thee a good husband, I doubt not." "He would-he will make a good husband to somebody some day, but not to me. And he is so good and nice in himself that he deserves a far better wife than I should be to him. I would not for the world do him so great a wrong as listen to his proposals." "I hope, child, that thou dost not care still for that young sprig of aristocracy that treated thee so shamefully? I value constancy as much as thou canst; but then, the thing or creature to which thou art constant should be beyond all dispute worthy of constancy." "I would not at any price marry Horace Trelawny. It still gives me pain to think of him; but it is quite a different kind of pain from that I felt when first I discovered that he had courted me only for the money I was supposed to have. My esteem for him is dead; I no longer respect him-how, therefore, should I love him? Indeed, he has become to me something of a myth, for the ideal Horace, for whom I did care so much, never actually existed. Don't be afraid; I am not refusing Louis Michaud for the sake of Horace Trelawny. It is simply that I do not and cannot love him, and that my earnest desire is to remain a single woman." "I should be the last to bid thee marry without affection; but be quite sure thou dost not deceive thyself; a single life has its regrets." "And so has many a married life. But my life shall not be single-it shall be plural, very plural, if I can but make it so! All loves but the one love shall be mine; I will cast in my lot with that of my relatives, I will sympathise with all sad and afflicted ones, I will help those who need help; in short, I will be an 'unappro priated blessing,' and in the end people shall be very thankful that I kept my maiden estate." "Very well, I will say no more; thou hast a home with me while I live. The present question is, whether or not thou goest to Bradenshope." "What do you say, Aunt Dorothy? It shall be as you please." "If I did as I pleased, I should tell thee to pack thy things and return with me to the Grey House, and stop there. But, taking all the circumstances into account, I think it will be good for thee, and more comfortable for several other persons, that thou shouldst go to Bradenshope; and Christina Braden is an admirable young woman, and worthy to be thy friend." "Is she as dear and sweet as Irene ?" "She is so very different from Irene that it is not easy to answer thy question. Thou must judge for thyself. Yes! I choose for thee, since I see thou really awaitest my decision; thou shalt pay this visit; thou shalt go on the day appointed; as they have been so kind as to ask thee in such friendly fashion, I should not like thee to appear ungrateful. But as thou canst not go to Bradenshope till the day after to-morrow, thou shalt go back presently with me, if thy Aunt Rose has no objection. Let us ask her at once." Mrs. Arnison was of opinion that Hilda had better not leave the Blue House so abruptly. "We are not a small family,' she said, "and you and the Michauds need not be thrown too closely together. You do not wish that it should be spread abroad that you have refused the young man; but if you go off immediately, leaving your luggage behind you, like a young lady in a novel, something will naturally be suspected. The girls know you are asked to Bradenshope; all you have to do is to pack what you will require there, to be forwarded by carrier; and spend to-morrow evening, if you like, with Aunt Dorothy. One of us will drive you over to-morrow afternoon." That will do, if Aunt Dorothy will have me for a single night; I must confess I do not like the idea of running away like a culprit. But, Aunt Rose, it is a regular nuisance-I shall begin to wish there were no young men in the world; after this, I shall fight shy of all masculine creatures between sixteen and forty-five. How could Louis be so foolish!" "In what did his foolishness consist? " "In his wanting me for a wife. He might have known by this time that I was not a marrying woman; he might also have discovered that he and I were not in the least suited. Nothing would induce me to marry a foreigner." "Louis is wonderfully English in all his ways, and he is a Protestant and a true Christian. It strikes me, Hilda, that you may go farther and fare worse." 'Possibly. But I am not going farther in the direction of marriage. I am going to be the happiest, most useful old maid that ever lived; I shall be Auntie' to all your grandchildren, and in years to come—that is, if I live-I shall be in request in every house where Arnisons hold sway. If only I might never hear any more about marrying!" "I shall never urge it upon you, Hilda," replied Mrs. Arnison, a little pensively; she was thinking how crookedly, to all appearance, things in this world would go. If only Louis had had the sense to care for Flossie, and bestow on Hilda that brotherly regard which so perfectly contented her, how convenient it would have been! Yet so it ever is, one woman coolly rejects as a bore and an encumbrance the affection that another would thankfully accept as precious treasure. But," continued she, "does Louis fully understand that his suit is hopeless ? " "I think I made Madame Michaud understand so much." "Louis will never take his dismissal second-hand, if I know anything of him." "In that case, I had better make good my retreat, and return immediately with Aunt Dorothy." "And I say, my dear, you had better not! Louis, I think, has a right to an answer from your own lips. It will also simplify matters very much; he will know you are in earnest, and accept your decision as final. Louis is too English in all his ideas to tolerate this courting by proxy; he will ask you a plain question, and you must give him a plain, though kindly, answer. Remember, my dear, when a man asks a girl to be his wife, and earnestly desires to win her, he does her as much honour as lies in his power; and when the man is a good, true-hearted man, like our Louis, he deserves all consideration. It is a mistake to imagine that a woman owes nothing in this particular; and I am sure you are no coquette, Hilda dear!" "No, indeed! I do think I am not guilty of that folly, Aunt Rose. I should be ashamed of myself if I liked to vex or tease any man. A coquette is a most despicable character; and I must confess I have very little sympathy with those young ladies in stories who don't know their own minds; they always make me think of that sweet damsel whose charms Bon Gaultier celebrates : "He said that I was proud, mother, that I looked for rank and gold; He said I did not love him-he said my words were cold; ""I did not know my heart, mother-I know it now too late; At which there was a little burst of laughter from both the elder ladies; Hilda had recited the lines with so much humour. Just at this point Madame Michaud entered the room, vigorously rubbing her nose, a certain sign of her vexation; she heard the dying cadence of the laugh, and felt injured, especially when she perceived who the offenders were. Here was she negotiating an affair of the gravest importance, and there were they-the three women. to whom she had appealed-behaving with all possible frivolity Madame's sensibilities were shocked; she looked quietly displeased. "I beg your pardon, Rose," she said, coldly addressing Mrs. Arnison. "I am sorry to interrupt your entertainment, but I came to ask you to convey a message to |