"Oh! no! never," she replied; "but Maud and papa seem to hold the same opinions on many points; and she has spoken to me often of the disparity of age, and seemed so utterly against it, that I fear papa will think so too."
"It shall be exactly as you wish," said he; "but I would much rather know my fate at once, than wait in suspense;—what good end can it answer to delay it?"
"Oh! don't talk in that way," replied Blanche, bursting into tears;—"you know how much I should wish it settled, too; but then, if papa should be angry, and refuse to give his consent, I should never see you again. I cannot bear to think of that."
Poor little innocent timid Blanche! she knew not what troubles her timidity was bringing on them both. It was her first love; and, childlike, she thought only of her present pleasure. She felt like one in a pleasant dream, gliding through the air on azure clouds, wafted gently onwards by a zephyr's breeze, with her lover ever by her side to protect her from harm; and she feared lest the slightest change in their present position should cause an angry storm to rise, and overturn all their blissful happiness. She did not know, poor girl, in her ignorance, of the changes and chances that are continually going on in the world, where the greatest pleasures and the severest pains and trials last but for a season, and they are gone, and old Time keeps on the even tenor of his way, and pains and pleasures live only in the memory, and fade away as time rolls on, leaving, in the end, but a faint shadow of the past.
Blanche knew not this; and, anxious to secure present happiness, she induced her lover, in the very innocence of her young heart, by tears and entreaties, to delay his application to her father for a time, in defiance of his better judgment; for he was older, and knew the world much better than this poor innocent girl, but still he yielded, and they loved on in secret.
While Maud was so engrossed with Mr. Morley, there was no one to watch and overlook them; but when he was gone, it seemed to her as if all her occupation was gone too,—she had nothing left but to wander out alone and think of him whose image ever haunted her;—and, in her wanderings, she often surprised Blanche and her attendant lover, in one of their favourite haunts. And, wanting some better occupation, she would chide her sister when they were alone together. At first, Blanche didn't mind it much; but its frequent repetition angered her, and she spoke up sharply to her sister, contrary to her wont, which made Maud speak her mind more freely. And as they sat at work alone, one afternoon, she renewed the old subject:—
"I must tell you, Blanche," she began, "that I think it is very wrong in you to encourage Mr. Fowler to pay you such marked attention, when, perhaps, he means nothing, after all."
"I will not allow anyone, in my presence, to impeach Mr. Fowler's honour," replied Blanche, looking up from her work, her cheeks burning with indignant pride; "I have the most perfect confidence in his honourable intentions, and therefore I will not hear him traduced."
"There we differ," returned her elder sister, hastily; "and, let me tell you that, were his intentions ever so honourable, papa would never sanction the engagement of a daughter of his to Lieut. Fowler."