even tried to solve the mystery of her _soi-disant_ sickness: "I was
disturbed by a feeling so new and so powerful,* but, above all, by having
a secret from you; the first--the last."

*Perhaps even this faint attempt at self-analysis was due to the
influence of Dr. Whately. For, by nature, young ladies of this age seldom
turn the eye inward.

"Well, darling, then why have a secret? Why not trust me, your friend as
well as your mother?"

"Ah! why, indeed? I am a puzzle to myself. I wanted you to know, and yet
I could not tell you. I kept giving you hints, and hoped so you would
take them, and make me speak out. But when I tried to tell you plump,
something kept pull--pull--pulling me inside, and I couldn't. Mark my
words! some day it will turn out that I am neither more nor less than a
fool."

Mrs. Dodd slighted this ingenious solution. She said, after a moment's
reflection, that the fault of this misunderstanding lay between the two.
"I remember now I have had many hints; my mind must surely have gone to
sleep. I was a poor simple woman who thought her daughter was to be
always a child. And you were very wrong to go and set a limit to your
mother's love: there is none--none whatever." She added: "I must import a
little prudence and respect for the world's opinion into this new
connection; but whoever you love shall find no enemy in me."

Next day Alfred came to know his fate. He was received with ceremonious
courtesy. At first he was a good deal embarrassed, but this was no sooner
seen than it was relieved by Mrs. Dodd with tact and gentleness. When her