asked Natalie.

"Why did you never tell us that you have a name in keeping with your
character?" he asked, taking the seat by her side which Winnie, who had
retired to hide her blushes, had vacated.

"'Tis the name by which my father loved to call me, and I associate it
with his sacred memory," she replied; and a tear, which Delwood looked
upon as also sacred, fell upon the hand which clasped her's as with
reverential fervency.

"Your brother told me of the name," he replied, "and will you permit me
to associate with that name all that is of purity? May I not call you by
that name? Can you give one thought to him whose very happiness for life
is dependent on you?"

There was a pause, Delwood had never until this night, declared to her
his love, in so many measured words, which were but coldness in
comparison with the love for her which filled his soul. A year ago would
have sealed his doom, but that night witnessed another scene. Death had
claimed it for his own. The hand which he held was not withdrawn,
neither did a simper mark her reply. With eyes meekly turned upward, she
answered in a calm, low voice,--"My dear father is in heaven; if he is
looking down, I feel that he will smile upon me, when, with my mother's
consent, she shall give me away to you. I have long ago given myself to
Christ, and if you recognize him as your Saviour, we will together serve
him as dutiful children, praying one for the other that we may
not fall."

"I am not like you," he replied; "I can never be as pure as you are;