'I do not doubt that you are perfectly in earnest _now_; but my
knowledge of mankind forbids my putting much faith in the endurance of
the sort of feeling with which you profess--I cannot give up the word,
you see--to be inspired. My child, so says the world, is
beautiful--very beautiful. Yours may be a mere passion for her
beauty.'

'You wrong me,' replied the young man; 'I have known and admired her
long enough to appreciate her intrinsic worth. Her image is as dear to
me as my own life'

Dodbury bent on his young friend a long and earnest look of inquiry.
He was a good reader of human nature. He saw that, as the lover spoke,
his eye lightened with enthusiasm, his lips quivered with emotion,
his cheeks glowed with blushes. 'I have little faith in these violent
emotions,' thought the wary man of the world, as he leaned back in his
easy-chair for a moment's reflection. 'Fierce flames burn out quickly.
This affair surrounds me with difficulties.'

About a month after Miss Dodbury's complete recovery, her father
opened the same topic gradually and delicately to her. Catherine had
scarcely nurtured a thought which she had not confided to her father;
being her only parent, she looked up to him as the directing source
of all her actions. He was 'the king of her narrow world.' In
discussing this matter, therefore, though overwhelmed with a maiden
shame, she was not reserved. From what she said, the sorrowing father
gathered that her maiden affections _were_ twined around a man whom
her own innate propriety and pride, not to include other obstacles,
should prevent her from marrying. This disclosure gave Dodbury great