“Ethelind,” said he with some emotion, “will you, dare you, trust your happiness with me?  Can you be contented to share my lot, and help me in the discharge of my duties.  Will the retired life I lead, be consonant with your tastes and wishes.  Tell me honestly; you, I know, will not deceive me.  Your mother, I fear, is seriously ill, and if, as I sometimes dare hope, you love me, let us give her the satisfaction of seeing us united ere she is called hence.”

“Mr. Barclay,” said Ethelind, soon as she could speak, “were I differently circumstanced, gladly would I unite my fate with yours, but with your present limited means, I should only be a burden.  You have, perhaps, a mother and sisters dependent on you, with whose comfort I might interfere.”

“They are,” said he, “perfectly independent of me; but tell me if I have that interest in your affections that alone can make me happy, tell me the truth, I shall not respect you the less.”

“Oh, Mr. Barclay, I shall be but too happy,” said Ethelind, bursting into tears, “but can I really believe you.”

“I was never more earnest, and I will add, more happy in my life; but my Ethelind,” continued he, “your mother’s health is so precarious that I must insist on your consulting her, and naming an early day to be mine.”

“But I cannot, will not leave her; no, we must wait.”

“You shall not, my sweet girl, leave your respected parent.  No, while it pleases God to spare her life, you shall not be separated from her one hour; she shall live with us, But I shall write to my mother and sisters, who must witness my happiness;—­but you are agitated, dearest, do you repent or desire to rescind?”

“Oh! no;” said Ethelind, “but this is so unexpected.  Oh, let me go to my beloved mother, pray do, Mr. Barclay,” said she, drawing away the hand he still strove to retain in his.

“Have done with Mr. Barclay, and call me Frederic.”  Waiting only till she assented to this, he took his leave; and Ethelind went, with a heart overcharged with joy, to her mother, who had just awakened from a tranquil slumber.  It is needless to say how truly thankful Mrs. Fortescue was.  Her child’s happiness seemingly so well secured, she had only now to prepare for the solemn change that she felt was not far distant.

From this time, however, her health gradually amended, and the day was fixed for the union of Ethelind and Mr. Barclay.  He settled that they should, for the present, reside at the Rectory.  Ethelind’s countenance brightened, for she fancied she had solved part of the mystery, and that Mr. Eardly was not yet coming, and till his arrival they would be permitted to reside there.