“My darling girl,” said Laurentia, “not only do I forgive you for what was no more than natural; but what is more, I can tell you that circumstances might arise which would make me fully approve of your choice.”
“Approve of my choice, mother!” exclaimed the girl. “Oh, you make me happy indeed!” And kneeling down, she hid her face in her mother’s lap and broke out into convulsive sobs which shook her entire frame.
Laurentia, wholly unprepared for this storm of passion, lifted her up and tried to soothe her.
“Come, now, Anna,” said she, “try and be calm; try and compose yourself! How can my simple words have moved you so? Could you possibly suspect me of not doing my utmost to secure your happiness?”
“My happiness!” cried the young girl. “Yes, my happiness—yes, dearest mother, that is the right word—it is indeed my happiness,” continued she, as she covered her mother’s face with kisses.
“Now, Anna,” at length said Laurentia, anxious to put an end to this tender effusion, “do sit down quietly by my side, as you were sitting just now, and then with your hand in mine and your eye fixed on mine, we can talk over this delicate matter quietly. Come and sit down here close to my heart.”
She pressed her child’s head to her bosom. It was a pretty picture, but it conveyed, alas! the exact contrary of the story of the serpent and the husbandman.
“But,” asked Anna, anxiously, and folding her hands as if in prayer, “do you think papa will ever give his consent?”
“I think he may,” replied Laurentia.
“Oh, that would be a blessing!” cried Anna. “Don’t you think, mammy dear, that would be too great a blessing?”