It was some time now, since I had left the Doctor. Living in hisneighbourhood, I saw him frequently; and we all went to his house on twoor three occasions to dinner or tea. The Old Soldier was in permanentquarters under the Doctor's roof. She was exactly the same as ever, andthe same immortal butterflies hovered over her cap.

Like some other mothers, whom I have known in the course of my life,Mrs. Markleham was far more fond of pleasure than her daughter was.She required a great deal of amusement, and, like a deep old soldier,pretended, in consulting her own inclinations, to be devoting herselfto her child. The Doctor's desire that Annie should be entertained,was therefore particularly acceptable to this excellent parent; whoexpressed unqualified approval of his discretion.

I have no doubt, indeed, that she probed the Doctor's wound withoutknowing it. Meaning nothing but a certain matured frivolity andselfishness, not always inseparable from full-blown years, I think sheconfirmed him in his fear that he was a constraint upon his youngwife, and that there was no congeniality of feeling between them, by sostrongly commending his design of lightening the load of her life.

'My dear soul,' she said to him one day when I was present, 'you knowthere is no doubt it would be a little pokey for Annie to be always shutup here.'

The Doctor nodded his benevolent head. 'When she comes to her mother'sage,' said Mrs. Markleham, with a flourish of her fan, 'then it'll beanother thing. You might put ME into a Jail, with genteel society anda rubber, and I should never care to come out. But I am not Annie, youknow; and Annie is not her mother.'

'Surely, surely,' said the Doctor.

'You are the best of creatures--no, I beg your pardon!' for the Doctormade a gesture of deprecation, 'I must say before your face, as I alwayssay behind your back, you are the best of creatures; but of course youdon't--now do you?---enter into the same pursuits and fancies as Annie?'

'No,' said the Doctor, in a sorrowful tone.

'No, of course not,' retorted the Old Soldier. 'Take your Dictionary,for example. What a useful work a Dictionary is! What a necessary work!The meanings of words! Without Doctor Johnson, or somebody of that sort,we might have been at this present moment calling an Italian-iron,a bedstead. But we can't expect a Dictionary--especially when it'smaking--to interest Annie, can we?'

The Doctor shook his head.

'And that's why I so much approve,' said Mrs. Markleham, tapping himon the shoulder with her shut-up fan, 'of your thoughtfulness. It showsthat you don't expect, as many elderly people do expect, old heads onyoung shoulders. You have studied Annie's character, and you understandit. That's what I find so charming!'

Even the calm and patient face of Doctor Strong expressed some littlesense of pain, I thought, under the infliction of these compliments.

'Therefore, my dear Doctor,' said the Old Soldier, giving him severalaffectionate taps, 'you may command me, at all times and seasons. Now,do understand that I am entirely at your service. I am ready to go withAnnie to operas, concerts, exhibitions, all kinds of places; and youshall never find that I am tired. Duty, my dear Doctor, before everyconsideration in the universe!'

She was as good as her word. She was one of those people who can beara great deal of pleasure, and she never flinched in her perseverancein the cause. She seldom got hold of the newspaper (which she settledherself down in the softest chair in the house to read through aneye-glass, every day, for two hours), but she found out something thatshe was certain Annie would like to see. It was in vain for Annie toprotest that she was weary of such things. Her mother's remonstrancealways was, 'Now, my dear Annie, I am sure you know better; and I musttell you, my love, that you are not making a proper return for thekindness of Doctor Strong.'

This was usually said in the Doctor's presence, and appeared to me toconstitute Annie's principal inducement for withdrawing her objectionswhen she made any. But in general she resigned herself to her mother,and went where the Old Soldier would.

It rarely happened now that Mr. Maldon accompanied them. Sometimesmy aunt and Dora were invited to do so, and accepted the invitation.Sometimes Dora only was asked. The time had been, when I should havebeen uneasy in her going; but reflection on what had passed thatformer night in the Doctor's study, had made a change in my mistrust. Ibelieved that the Doctor was right, and I had no worse suspicions.

My aunt rubbed her nose sometimes when she happened to be alone withme, and said she couldn't make it out; she wished they were happier; shedidn't think our military friend (so she always called the Old Soldier)mended the matter at all. My aunt further expressed her opinion, 'thatif our military friend would cut off those butterflies, and give 'em tothe chimney-sweepers for May-day, it would look like the beginning ofsomething sensible on her part.'

But her abiding reliance was on Mr. Dick. That man had evidently anidea in his head, she said; and if he could only once pen it up into acorner, which was his great difficulty, he would distinguish himself insome extraordinary manner.

Unconscious of this prediction, Mr. Dick continued to occupy preciselythe same ground in reference to the Doctor and to Mrs. Strong. He seemedneither to advance nor to recede. He appeared to have settled into hisoriginal foundation, like a building; and I must confess that my faithin his ever Moving, was not much greater than if he had been a building.

But one night, when I had been married some months, Mr. Dick put hishead into the parlour, where I was writing alone (Dora having gone outwith my aunt to take tea with the two little birds), and said, with asignificant cough:

'You couldn't speak to me without inconveniencing yourself, Trotwood, Iam afraid?'

'Certainly, Mr. Dick,' said I; 'come in!'

'Trotwood,' said Mr. Dick, laying his finger on the side of his nose,after he had shaken hands with me. 'Before I sit down, I wish to make anobservation. You know your aunt?'

'A little,' I replied.

'She is the most wonderful woman in the world, sir!'

After the delivery of this communication, which he shot out of himselfas if he were loaded with it, Mr. Dick sat down with greater gravitythan usual, and looked at me.

'Now, boy,' said Mr. Dick, 'I am going to put a question to you.'

'As many as you please,' said I.

'What do you consider me, sir?' asked Mr. Dick, folding his arms.

'A dear old friend,' said I. 'Thank you, Trotwood,' returned Mr. Dick,laughing, and reaching across in high glee to shake hands with me. 'ButI mean, boy,' resuming his gravity, 'what do you consider me in thisrespect?' touching his forehead.

I was puzzled how to answer, but he helped me with a word.

'Weak?' said Mr. Dick.

'Well,' I replied, dubiously. 'Rather so.'

'Exactly!' cried Mr. Dick, who seemed quite enchanted by my reply. 'Thatis, Trotwood, when they took some of the trouble out of you-know-who'shead, and put it you know where, there was a--' Mr. Dick made his twohands revolve very fast about each other a great number of times, andthen brought them into collision, and rolled them over and over oneanother, to express confusion. 'There was that sort of thing done to mesomehow. Eh?'

I nodded at him, and he nodded back again.

'In short, boy,' said Mr. Dick, dropping his voice to a whisper, 'I amsimple.'

I would have qualified that conclusion, but he stopped me.

'Yes, I am! She pretends I am not. She won't hear of it; but I am. Iknow I am. If she hadn't stood my friend, sir, I should have been shutup, to lead a dismal life these many years. But I'll provide for her!I never spend the copying money. I put it in a box. I have made a will.I'll leave it all to her. She shall be rich--noble!'

Mr. Dick took out his pocket-handkerchief, and wiped his eyes. He thenfolded it up with great care, pressed it smooth between his two hands,put it in his pocket, and seemed to put my aunt away with it.

'Now you are a scholar, Trotwood,' said Mr. Dick. 'You are a finescholar. You know what a learned man, what a great man, the Doctor is.You know what honour he has always done me. Not proud in his wisdom.Humble, humble--condescending even to poor Dick, who is simple and knowsnothing. I have sent his name up, on a scrap of paper, to the kite,along the string, when it has been in the sky, among the larks. The kitehas been glad to receive it, sir, and the sky has been brighter withit.'

I delighted him by saying, most heartily, that the Doctor was deservingof our best respect and highest esteem.

'And his beautiful wife is a star,' said Mr. Dick. 'A shining star. Ihave seen her shine, sir. But,' bringing his chair nearer, and layingone hand upon my knee--'clouds, sir--clouds.'

I answered the solicitude which his face expressed, by conveying thesame expression into my own, and shaking my head.

'What clouds?' said Mr. Dick.

He looked so wistfully into my face, and was so anxious to understand,that I took great pains to answer him slowly and distinctly, as I mighthave entered on an explanation to a child.

'There is some unfortunate division between them,' I replied. 'Someunhappy cause of separation. A secret. It may be inseparable from thediscrepancy in their years. It may have grown up out of almost nothing.'

Mr. Dick, who had told off every sentence with a thoughtful nod, pausedwhen I had done, and sat considering, with his eyes upon my face, andhis hand upon my knee.

'Doctor not angry with her, Trotwood?' he said, after some time.

'No. Devoted to her.'

'Then, I have got it, boy!' said Mr. Dick.

The sudden exultation with which he slapped me on the knee, and leanedback in his chair, with his eyebrows lifted up as high as he couldpossibly lift them, made me think him farther out of his wits thanever. He became as suddenly grave again, and leaning forward as before,said--first respectfully taking out his pocket-handkerchief, as if itreally did represent my aunt:

'Most wonderful woman in the world, Trotwood. Why has she done nothingto set things right?'

'Too delicate and difficult a subject for such interference,' I replied.

'Fine scholar,' said Mr. Dick, touching me with his finger. 'Why has HEdone nothing?'

'For the same reason,' I returned.

'Then, I have got it, boy!' said Mr. Dick. And he stood up before me,more exultingly than before, nodding his head, and striking himselfrepeatedly upon the breast, until one might have supposed that he hadnearly nodded and struck all the breath out of his body.

'A poor fellow with a craze, sir,' said Mr. Dick, 'a simpleton, aweak-minded person--present company, you know!' striking himself again,'may do what wonderful people may not do. I'll bring them together, boy.I'll try. They'll not blame me. They'll not object to me. They'll notmind what I do, if it's wrong. I'm only Mr. Dick. And who minds Dick?Dick's nobody! Whoo!' He blew a slight, contemptuous breath, as if heblew himself away.

It was fortunate he had proceeded so far with his mystery, for we heardthe coach stop at the little garden gate, which brought my aunt and Dorahome.

'Not a word, boy!' he pursued in a whisper; 'leave all the blame withDick--simple Dick--mad Dick. I have been thinking, sir, for some time,that I was getting it, and now I have got it. After what you have saidto me, I am sure I have got it. All right!' Not another word did Mr.Dick utter on the subject; but he made a very telegraph of himself forthe next half-hour (to the great disturbance of my aunt's mind), toenjoin inviolable secrecy on me.

To my surprise, I heard no more about it for some two or three weeks,though I was sufficiently interested in the result of his endeavours;descrying a strange gleam of good sense--I say nothing of good feeling,for that he always exhibited--in the conclusion to which he had come. Atlast I began to believe, that, in the flighty and unsettled state of hismind, he had either forgotten his intention or abandoned it.

One fair evening, when Dora was not inclined to go out, my aunt and Istrolled up to the Doctor's cottage. It was autumn, when there were nodebates to vex the evening air; and I remember how the leaves smelt likeour garden at Blunderstone as we trod them under foot, and how the old,unhappy feeling, seemed to go by, on the sighing wind.

It was twilight when we reached the cottage. Mrs. Strong was just comingout of the garden, where Mr. Dick yet lingered, busy with his knife,helping the gardener to point some stakes. The Doctor was engaged withsomeone in his study; but the visitor would be gone directly, Mrs.Strong said, and begged us to remain and see him. We went into thedrawing-room with her, and sat down by the darkening window. There wasnever any ceremony about the visits of such old friends and neighboursas we were.

We had not sat here many minutes, when Mrs. Markleham, who usuallycontrived to be in a fuss about something, came bustling in, with hernewspaper in her hand, and said, out of breath, 'My goodness gracious,Annie, why didn't you tell me there was someone in the Study!'

'My dear mama,' she quietly returned, 'how could I know that you desiredthe information?'

'Desired the information!' said Mrs. Markleham, sinking on the sofa. 'Inever had such a turn in all my life!'

'Have you been to the Study, then, mama?' asked Annie.

'BEEN to the Study, my dear!' she returned emphatically. 'Indeed I have!I came upon the amiable creature--if you'll imagine my feelings, MissTrotwood and David--in the act of making his will.'

Her daughter looked round from the window quickly.

'In the act, my dear Annie,' repeated Mrs. Markleham, spreading thenewspaper on her lap like a table-cloth, and patting her hands upon it,'of making his last Will and Testament. The foresight and affection ofthe dear! I must tell you how it was. I really must, in justice to thedarling--for he is nothing less!--tell you how it was. Perhaps you know,Miss Trotwood, that there is never a candle lighted in this house, untilone's eyes are literally falling out of one's head with being stretchedto read the paper. And that there is not a chair in this house, in whicha paper can be what I call, read, except one in the Study. This took meto the Study, where I saw a light. I opened the door. In company withthe dear Doctor were two professional people, evidently connected withthe law, and they were all three standing at the table: thedarling Doctor pen in hand. "This simply expresses then," said theDoctor--Annie, my love, attend to the very words--"this simply expressesthen, gentlemen, the confidence I have in Mrs. Strong, and gives her allunconditionally?" One of the professional people replied, "And gives herall unconditionally." Upon that, with the natural feelings of a mother,I said, "Good God, I beg your pardon!" fell over the door-step, and cameaway through the little back passage where the pantry is.'

Mrs. Strong opened the window, and went out into the verandah, where shestood leaning against a pillar.

'But now isn't it, Miss Trotwood, isn't it, David, invigorating,' saidMrs. Markleham, mechanically following her with her eyes, 'to find a manat Doctor Strong's time of life, with the strength of mind to do thiskind of thing? It only shows how right I was. I said to Annie, whenDoctor Strong paid a very flattering visit to myself, and made her thesubject of a declaration and an offer, I said, "My dear, there is nodoubt whatever, in my opinion, with reference to a suitable provisionfor you, that Doctor Strong will do more than he binds himself to do."'

Here the bell rang, and we heard the sound of the visitors' feet as theywent out.

'It's all over, no doubt,' said the Old Soldier, after listening; 'thedear creature has signed, sealed, and delivered, and his mind's at rest.Well it may be! What a mind! Annie, my love, I am going to the Studywith my paper, for I am a poor creature without news. Miss Trotwood,David, pray come and see the Doctor.'

I was conscious of Mr. Dick's standing in the shadow of the room,shutting up his knife, when we accompanied her to the Study; and of myaunt's rubbing her nose violently, by the way, as a mild vent for herintolerance of our military friend; but who got first into the Study, orhow Mrs. Markleham settled herself in a moment in her easy-chair, or howmy aunt and I came to be left together near the door (unless her eyeswere quicker than mine, and she held me back), I have forgotten, if Iever knew. But this I know,--that we saw the Doctor before he saw us,sitting at his table, among the folio volumes in which he delighted,resting his head calmly on his hand. That, in the same moment, we sawMrs. Strong glide in, pale and trembling. That Mr. Dick supported her onhis arm. That he laid his other hand upon the Doctor's arm, causing himto look up with an abstracted air. That, as the Doctor moved his head,his wife dropped down on one knee at his feet, and, with her handsimploringly lifted, fixed upon his face the memorable look I had neverforgotten. That at this sight Mrs. Markleham dropped the newspaper,and stared more like a figure-head intended for a ship to be called TheAstonishment, than anything else I can think of.

The gentleness of the Doctor's manner and surprise, the dignity thatmingled with the supplicating attitude of his wife, the amiable concernof Mr. Dick, and the earnestness with which my aunt said to herself,'That man mad!' (triumphantly expressive of the misery from which shehad saved him)--I see and hear, rather than remember, as I write aboutit.

'Doctor!' said Mr. Dick. 'What is it that's amiss? Look here!'

'Annie!' cried the Doctor. 'Not at my feet, my dear!'

'Yes!' she said. 'I beg and pray that no one will leave the room! Oh, myhusband and father, break this long silence. Let us both know what it isthat has come between us!'

Mrs. Markleham, by this time recovering the power of speech, and seemingto swell with family pride and motherly indignation, here exclaimed,'Annie, get up immediately, and don't disgrace everybody belonging toyou by humbling yourself like that, unless you wish to see me go out ofmy mind on the spot!'

'Mama!' returned Annie. 'Waste no words on me, for my appeal is to myhusband, and even you are nothing here.'

'Nothing!' exclaimed Mrs. Markleham. 'Me, nothing! The child has takenleave of her senses. Please to get me a glass of water!'

I was too attentive to the Doctor and his wife, to give any heed to thisrequest; and it made no impression on anybody else; so Mrs. Marklehampanted, stared, and fanned herself.

'Annie!' said the Doctor, tenderly taking her in his hands. 'My dear!If any unavoidable change has come, in the sequence of time, upon ourmarried life, you are not to blame. The fault is mine, and only mine.There is no change in my affection, admiration, and respect. I wish tomake you happy. I truly love and honour you. Rise, Annie, pray!'

But she did not rise. After looking at him for a little while, she sankdown closer to him, laid her arm across his knee, and dropping her headupon it, said:

'If I have any friend here, who can speak one word for me, or for myhusband in this matter; if I have any friend here, who can give a voiceto any suspicion that my heart has sometimes whispered to me; if I haveany friend here, who honours my husband, or has ever cared for me, andhas anything within his knowledge, no matter what it is, that may helpto mediate between us, I implore that friend to speak!'

There was a profound silence. After a few moments of painful hesitation,I broke the silence.

'Mrs. Strong,' I said, 'there is something within my knowledge, whichI have been earnestly entreated by Doctor Strong to conceal, and haveconcealed until tonight. But, I believe the time has come when it wouldbe mistaken faith and delicacy to conceal it any longer, and when yourappeal absolves me from his injunction.'

She turned her face towards me for a moment, and I knew that I wasright. I could not have resisted its entreaty, if the assurance that itgave me had been less convincing.

'Our future peace,' she said, 'may be in your hands. I trust itconfidently to your not suppressing anything. I know beforehand thatnothing you, or anyone, can tell me, will show my husband's noble heartin any other light than one. Howsoever it may seem to you to touch me,disregard that. I will speak for myself, before him, and before Godafterwards.'

Thus earnestly besought, I made no reference to the Doctor for hispermission, but, without any other compromise of the truth than a littlesoftening of the coarseness of Uriah Heep, related plainly what hadpassed in that same room that night. The staring of Mrs. Marklehamduring the whole narration, and the shrill, sharp interjections withwhich she occasionally interrupted it, defy description.

When I had finished, Annie remained, for some few moments, silent, withher head bent down, as I have described. Then, she took the Doctor'shand (he was sitting in the same attitude as when we had entered theroom), and pressed it to her breast, and kissed it. Mr. Dick softlyraised her; and she stood, when she began to speak, leaning on him, andlooking down upon her husband--from whom she never turned her eyes.

'All that has ever been in my mind, since I was married,' she said in alow, submissive, tender voice, 'I will lay bare before you. I could notlive and have one reservation, knowing what I know now.'

'Nay, Annie,' said the Doctor, mildly, 'I have never doubted you, mychild. There is no need; indeed there is no need, my dear.'

'There is great need,' she answered, in the same way, 'that I shouldopen my whole heart before the soul of generosity and truth, whom, yearby year, and day by day, I have loved and venerated more and more, asHeaven knows!'

'Really,' interrupted Mrs. Markleham, 'if I have any discretion atall--'

('Which you haven't, you Marplot,' observed my aunt, in an indignantwhisper.) --'I must be permitted to observe that it cannot be requisiteto enter into these details.'

'No one but my husband can judge of that, mama,' said Annie withoutremoving her eyes from his face, 'and he will hear me. If I say anythingto give you pain, mama, forgive me. I have borne pain first, often andlong, myself.'

'Upon my word!' gasped Mrs. Markleham.

'When I was very young,' said Annie, 'quite a little child, my firstassociations with knowledge of any kind were inseparable from a patientfriend and teacher--the friend of my dead father--who was always dearto me. I can remember nothing that I know, without remembering him. Hestored my mind with its first treasures, and stamped his character uponthem all. They never could have been, I think, as good as they have beento me, if I had taken them from any other hands.'

'Makes her mother nothing!' exclaimed Mrs. Markleham.

'Not so mama,' said Annie; 'but I make him what he was. I must do that.As I grew up, he occupied the same place still. I was proud of hisinterest: deeply, fondly, gratefully attached to him. I looked up tohim, I can hardly describe how--as a father, as a guide, as one whosepraise was different from all other praise, as one in whom I could havetrusted and confided, if I had doubted all the world. You know, mama,how young and inexperienced I was, when you presented him before me, ofa sudden, as a lover.'

'I have mentioned the fact, fifty times at least, to everybody here!'said Mrs. Markleham.

('Then hold your tongue, for the Lord's sake, and don't mention it anymore!' muttered my aunt.)

'It was so great a change: so great a loss, I felt it, at first,' saidAnnie, still preserving the same look and tone, 'that I was agitatedand distressed. I was but a girl; and when so great a change came in thecharacter in which I had so long looked up to him, I think I was sorry.But nothing could have made him what he used to be again; and I wasproud that he should think me so worthy, and we were married.' '--AtSaint Alphage, Canterbury,' observed Mrs. Markleham.

('Confound the woman!' said my aunt, 'she WON'T be quiet!')

'I never thought,' proceeded Annie, with a heightened colour, 'of anyworldly gain that my husband would bring to me. My young heart had noroom in its homage for any such poor reference. Mama, forgive me whenI say that it was you who first presented to my mind the thought thatanyone could wrong me, and wrong him, by such a cruel suspicion.'

'Me!' cried Mrs. Markleham.

('Ah! You, to be sure!' observed my aunt, 'and you can't fan it away, mymilitary friend!')

'It was the first unhappiness of my new life,' said Annie. 'It was thefirst occasion of every unhappy moment I have known. These moments havebeen more, of late, than I can count; but not--my generous husband!--notfor the reason you suppose; for in my heart there is not a thought, arecollection, or a hope, that any power could separate from you!'

She raised her eyes, and clasped her hands, and looked as beautiful andtrue, I thought, as any Spirit. The Doctor looked on her, henceforth, assteadfastly as she on him.

'Mama is blameless,' she went on, 'of having ever urged you for herself,and she is blameless in intention every way, I am sure,--but when I sawhow many importunate claims were pressed upon you in my name; how youwere traded on in my name; how generous you were, and how Mr. Wickfield,who had your welfare very much at heart, resented it; the first senseof my exposure to the mean suspicion that my tenderness was bought--andsold to you, of all men on earth--fell upon me like unmerited disgrace,in which I forced you to participate. I cannot tell you what itwas--mama cannot imagine what it was--to have this dread and troublealways on my mind, yet know in my own soul that on my marriage-day Icrowned the love and honour of my life!'

'A specimen of the thanks one gets,' cried Mrs. Markleham, in tears,'for taking care of one's family! I wish I was a Turk!'

('I wish you were, with all my heart--and in your native country!' saidmy aunt.)

'It was at that time that mama was most solicitous about my CousinMaldon. I had liked him': she spoke softly, but without any hesitation:'very much. We had been little lovers once. If circumstances had nothappened otherwise, I might have come to persuade myself that I reallyloved him, and might have married him, and been most wretched. There canbe no disparity in marriage like unsuitability of mind and purpose.'

I pondered on those words, even while I was studiously attending towhat followed, as if they had some particular interest, or some strangeapplication that I could not divine. 'There can be no disparity inmarriage like unsuitability of mind and purpose'--'no disparity inmarriage like unsuitability of mind and purpose.'

'There is nothing,' said Annie, 'that we have in common. I have longfound that there is nothing. If I were thankful to my husband for nomore, instead of for so much, I should be thankful to him for havingsaved me from the first mistaken impulse of my undisciplined heart.'

She stood quite still, before the Doctor, and spoke with an earnestnessthat thrilled me. Yet her voice was just as quiet as before.

'When he was waiting to be the object of your munificence, so freelybestowed for my sake, and when I was unhappy in the mercenary shapeI was made to wear, I thought it would have become him better to haveworked his own way on. I thought that if I had been he, I would havetried to do it, at the cost of almost any hardship. But I thought noworse of him, until the night of his departure for India. That night Iknew he had a false and thankless heart. I saw a double meaning, then,in Mr. Wickfield's scrutiny of me. I perceived, for the first time, thedark suspicion that shadowed my life.'

'Suspicion, Annie!' said the Doctor. 'No, no, no!'

'In your mind there was none, I know, my husband!' she returned. 'Andwhen I came to you, that night, to lay down all my load of shame andgrief, and knew that I had to tell that, underneath your roof, one of myown kindred, to whom you had been a benefactor, for the love of me, hadspoken to me words that should have found no utterance, even if I hadbeen the weak and mercenary wretch he thought me--my mind revolted fromthe taint the very tale conveyed. It died upon my lips, and from thathour till now has never passed them.'

Mrs. Markleham, with a short groan, leaned back in her easy-chair; andretired behind her fan, as if she were never coming out any more.

'I have never, but in your presence, interchanged a word with him fromthat time; then, only when it has been necessary for the avoidance ofthis explanation. Years have passed since he knew, from me, what hissituation here was. The kindnesses you have secretly done for hisadvancement, and then disclosed to me, for my surprise and pleasure,have been, you will believe, but aggravations of the unhappiness andburden of my secret.'

She sunk down gently at the Doctor's feet, though he did his utmost toprevent her; and said, looking up, tearfully, into his face:

'Do not speak to me yet! Let me say a little more! Right or wrong, ifthis were to be done again, I think I should do just the same. You nevercan know what it was to be devoted to you, with those old associations;to find that anyone could be so hard as to suppose that the truth of myheart was bartered away, and to be surrounded by appearances confirmingthat belief. I was very young, and had no adviser. Between mama andme, in all relating to you, there was a wide division. If I shrunk intomyself, hiding the disrespect I had undergone, it was because I honouredyou so much, and so much wished that you should honour me!'

'Annie, my pure heart!' said the Doctor, 'my dear girl!'

'A little more! a very few words more! I used to think there were somany whom you might have married, who would not have brought such chargeand trouble on you, and who would have made your home a worthier home. Iused to be afraid that I had better have remained your pupil, and almostyour child. I used to fear that I was so unsuited to your learning andwisdom. If all this made me shrink within myself (as indeed it did),when I had that to tell, it was still because I honoured you so much,and hoped that you might one day honour me.'

'That day has shone this long time, Annie,' said the Doctor, and canhave but one long night, my dear.'

'Another word! I afterwards meant--steadfastly meant, and purposed tomyself--to bear the whole weight of knowing the unworthiness of oneto whom you had been so good. And now a last word, dearest and best offriends! The cause of the late change in you, which I have seen withso much pain and sorrow, and have sometimes referred to my oldapprehension--at other times to lingering suppositions nearer to thetruth--has been made clear tonight; and by an accident I have also cometo know, tonight, the full measure of your noble trust in me, evenunder that mistake. I do not hope that any love and duty I may render inreturn, will ever make me worthy of your priceless confidence; but withall this knowledge fresh upon me, I can lift my eyes to this dearface, revered as a father's, loved as a husband's, sacred to me inmy childhood as a friend's, and solemnly declare that in my lightestthought I have never wronged you; never wavered in the love and thefidelity I owe you!'

She had her arms around the Doctor's neck, and he leant his head downover her, mingling his grey hair with her dark brown tresses.

'Oh, hold me to your heart, my husband! Never cast me out! Do not thinkor speak of disparity between us, for there is none, except in all mymany imperfections. Every succeeding year I have known this better, as Ihave esteemed you more and more. Oh, take me to your heart, my husband,for my love was founded on a rock, and it endures!'

In the silence that ensued, my aunt walked gravely up to Mr. Dick,without at all hurrying herself, and gave him a hug and a sounding kiss.And it was very fortunate, with a view to his credit, that she did so;for I am confident that I detected him at that moment in the act ofmaking preparations to stand on one leg, as an appropriate expression ofdelight.

'You are a very remarkable man, Dick!' said my aunt, with an air ofunqualified approbation; 'and never pretend to be anything else, for Iknow better!'

With that, my aunt pulled him by the sleeve, and nodded to me; and wethree stole quietly out of the room, and came away.

'That's a settler for our military friend, at any rate,' said my aunt,on the way home. 'I should sleep the better for that, if there wasnothing else to be glad of!'

'She was quite overcome, I am afraid,' said Mr. Dick, with greatcommiseration.

'What! Did you ever see a crocodile overcome?' inquired my aunt.

'I don't think I ever saw a crocodile,' returned Mr. Dick, mildly.

'There never would have been anything the matter, if it hadn't been forthat old Animal,' said my aunt, with strong emphasis. 'It's very muchto be wished that some mothers would leave their daughters alone aftermarriage, and not be so violently affectionate. They seem to think theonly return that can be made them for bringing an unfortunate youngwoman into the world--God bless my soul, as if she asked to be brought,or wanted to come!--is full liberty to worry her out of it again. Whatare you thinking of, Trot?'

I was thinking of all that had been said. My mind was still running onsome of the expressions used. 'There can be no disparity in marriagelike unsuitability of mind and purpose.' 'The first mistaken impulse ofan undisciplined heart.' 'My love was founded on a rock.' But we were athome; and the trodden leaves were lying under-foot, and the autumn windwas blowing.