which awaited her as the flowers gathered in her plaid and crowning her
bright hair.

I drew her to my side, and in the simplest words asked her if she would
go with me when Jean's long guardianship was ended. Joy, sorrow, and
surprise stirred the sweet composure of her face, and quickened the
tranquil beating of her heart. But as I ceased, joy conquered grief and
wonder; for she clapped her hands like a glad child, exclaiming,--

"Go with you, Sir? Oh, if you knew how I long to see the home you have
so often pictured to me, you would never doubt my willingness to go."

"But, Effie, you do not understand. Are you willing to go with me as my
wife?" I said,--with a secret sense of something like remorse, as I
uttered that word, which once meant so much to me, and now seemed such
an empty title to bestow on her.

The flowers dropped from the loosened plaid, as Effie looked with a
startled glance into my face; the color left her cheeks, and the smile
died on her lips, but a timid joy lit her eye, as she softly echoed my
last words,--

"Your wife? It sounds very solemn, though so sweet. Ah, Sir, I am not
wise or good enough for that!"

A child's humility breathed in her speech, but something of a woman's
fervor shone in her uplifted countenance, and sounded in the sudden
tremor of her voice.

"Effie, I want you as you are," I said,--"no wiser, dear,--no better.