She must never question this, although he had dealt the comfortable

persuasion a cruel blow; wounded her in a vital part by withholding

from her the circumstance of his attachment and betrothal until the

near approach of the wedding day rendered continued secrecy

inexpedient. No softening memory of his affianced had inclined him

to listen with kindly warmth to her timid avowals, or Frederic's

manly protestations of their mutual attachment. He recognized no

analogy in the two cases; stood aloof from them in the flush of his

successful love, as if he had never known the pregnant meaning of

the word. Smarting under the sense of injury to pride and affection,

her language, when she could trust her voice, was a protest that, in

Winston's judgment, ill beseemed her age and station.

"Why did you not tell me of this earlier, brother? It was unjust and

unkind to keep me in the dark until now."

"You forget yourself, Mabel. I am not under obligation to account to

you for my actions."

He said it composedly, as if stating a truth wholly disconnected

with feeling on his part or on hers.

"I have given you the information to which you refer, in season for

you to make ample preparation for my wife's reception. And, mark me,

she must see no sulkiness, no airs of strangeness or intolerance,

because I have managed a matter that concerns me chiefly, as seemed

to me best. Say the same to Mrs. Sutton, if you please; also that I

will submit to no dictation, and ask no advice."

Mabel's anger seldom outlived its utterance. The hot sparkle in her

eye was quenched by moisture, as she laid her hand caressingly upon

her brother's.

"Winston! you cannot suppose that we could be wanting in cordiality

to any one whom you love, much less to your wife. Let her come when

she may, she will be heartily welcomed by us both. But this has

fallen suddenly upon me, and I am a little out of sorts to-day, I

believe--excited and nervous--and, O, my darling! my oldest and best

of friends! I hope your love will bring to you the happiness you

deserve."

The tears had their course, at last, bathing the hand she bowed to

kiss. The simple ardor of the outbreak would have affected many men

to a show of responsive weakness. Even Winston Aylett's physiognomy

was more human and less statuesque, as he patted her head, and bade

her be composed.

"If you persist in enacting Niobe, I shall believe that you are

chagrined at the prospect of having the sister you have repeatedly

besought me to give you," he said, playfully--for him. "You have not

asked me her name, and where she lives. What has become of your

curiosity? I never knew it to be quiescent before."




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