"Eugene Trevor; the son of Mr. Trevor of Montrevor, in this county."
"And how long have you been acquainted?"
"Oh, ever since I came here in June. I had seen him once before, but that was a long time ago."
"Well! I suppose, I ought to be very much pleased."
"Ought! but you are—yes, though you try to look so solemn—you are delighted at your prophecy—your old bête noir being thus effectually removed. Namely, that your sisters would be 'old maids.'"
"Ah! yes—for how could I ever have imagined, that so many eligible husbands should be picked up amongst the wilds of poor old Wales? But you—you very sly little thing—when did you ever hear me express a fear or a wish respecting your marriage?"
"Never, Sir, because I really believe you thought me quite a hopeless subject of speculation; that T was cut out irreparably for 'an old maid.'"
"And I wish to know," he continued without attending to this interruption of his sister's, "I wish to know what has become of all the plans and promises, on which I have been building my hopes and expectations all this time? What has become of my companion, my housekeeper; the pleasant peaceful home we were to share together?"
"Oh, Arthur!" said Mary pleadingly, for though her brother spoke jestingly, she really thought she saw a liquid drop, dim the clearness of his eyes. "Oh, dear Arthur!" and she laid her face tenderly on his shoulder. She could not bear to see what almost brought a reproachful pang to her heart. "Do not say that; my home, I am sure, may still be, as much your home whenever you like to make it so. Eugene says the same—he is quite prepared to love you, as much as I do. Our love, our companionship, need not be at an end; and you, dear boy! you will like Eugene so very much, and be quite reconciled to my marrying, when you see what a husband I shall have."
"Yes, Mary, if I find him worthy in every respect (but mind—I shall be very difficult to satisfy on that point) then indeed I shall be fully reconciled," straining her to his heart, "for I am glad to hear all this dear girl. What I said was only nonsense—of course I am glad—, I should be a very selfish fellow were I not rejoiced to hear anything which is so apparently to your happiness and advantage. Besides," resuming his gaiety of tone, "for the next few years, I am going to be so busy amongst old musty papers, and law-books, and folios, that I should make but a sorry companion for any but the benchers of Gray's Inn."