Hopes and Fears

'Oh, thank you for knowing that so well.'

'But as we both have these ties, and as, besides, I should be a shabby adventurer to address you but on equal terms, we must be content to wait till-as with God's blessing I trust to do-I have made a home smooth enough for Maria as well as for you! Will that do, Phoebe?'

'Somehow it seems too much,' murmured Phoebe; 'and yet I knew it of you.'

'And as you both have means of your own, it may bring the time nearer,' he said. 'There, you see I can calculate on your fortune, though I still wish it were out of the way.'

'If it were not for Maria, I should.'

'And now with this hope and promise, I feel as if, even if it were seven years, they would be like so many days,' said Humfrey. 'You will not be of those, my Phoebe, who suffer and are worn by a long engagement?'

'One cannot tell without a trial,' said Phoebe; 'but indeed I do not see why security and rest, or even hope deferred, should hurt me. Surely, having a right to think about you cannot do so?'

And her look out of those honest clear gray eyes was one of the most perfect reliance and gladness.

'May I be worthy of those thoughts!' he fervently said. 'And you will write to me-even when I go back to the Ottawa?'

'I shall be so glad to tell you everything, and have your letters! Oh! no, with them I am not going to pine'-and her strong young nature laughed at the folly.

'And while God gives me strength, we will not be afraid,' he answered. 'Phoebe, I looked at the last chapter of Proverbs last night, and thought you were like that woman of strength and skill on whose "lips is the law of kindness." And "you are not afraid of the snow," as if to complete the likeness.'

'I did not quite know it was snowing. I like it, for it suits your country.'

'I like it, because you are as clear, firm, and pure as my own clear crystal ice,' he said; 'only not quite so cold! And now, what remains? Must your brothers be consulted?' he added, reluctantly.

'It will be right that I should tell them,' said Phoebe. 'From Robert I could not keep such a thing, and Mervyn has a right to know. I cannot tell how he may take it, but I do not think that I owe him such implicit obedience as if he were my father. And by the time you really ask for me, you know you are to be such a rising engineer that they are all to be almost as proud of you as I am!'

'God helping me,' he gravely answered, his eyes raised upwards, and as it were carrying with them the glance that had sought them in almost playful confidence.

And thus they looked forth upon this life. Neither was so young as not to be aware of its trials. She knew the sorrows of suspense, bereavement, and family disunion; and he, before his twenty-fourth year, had made experience of adversity, uncongeniality, disappointment, and severe-almost hopeless-everyday labour. It was not in the spirit of those who had not braced on their armour, but of those who had made proof of it, that they looked bravely and cheerfully upon the battle, feeling their strength doubled as faithful companions-in-arms, and willing in that strength and trust to bear patiently with the severest trial of all-the delay of their hopes. The cold but bracing wind, the snow driving and whirling round them in gusts, could not daunt nor quench their spirits-nay, rather gave them additional vigour and enjoyment, while even the tokens of the tempest that they bore away were of perfect dazzling whiteness.

Never was shelter less willingly attained than when the park wicket of the Underwood was reached, just as the early twilight was becoming darkness. It was like a foretaste for Phoebe of seeing him go his own way in the storm while she waited safely housed; but they parted with grave sweet smiles, and a promise that he would snatch a moment's farewell on the morrow. Phoebe would rather not have been met by Bertha, at the front door, in some solicitude-'You are come at last! Are you wet? are you cold?'

'Oh, no, thank you! Don't stand in the draught,' said Phoebe, anxious to shake her off; but it was not to be done. Bertha preceded her up-stairs, talking all the way in something of her old mischievous whisper. 'Am I in disgrace with you, too, Phoebe? Miss Fennimore says I have committed an awful breach of propriety; but really I could not leave you to the beating of the pitiless storm alone. I am afraid Malta's sagacity and little paws would hardly have sufficed to dig you out of a snowdrift before life was extinct. Are you greatly displeased with me, Phoebe?' And being by this time in the bedroom, she faced about, shut the door, and looked full at her sister.

'No-no-dear Bertha, not displeased in the least; only if you would go-'

'Now, Phoebe, indeed that is not kind of you,' said Bertha, pleadingly, but preparing to obey.

'No, Bertha, it is not,' said Phoebe, recovering herself in a moment. 'I am sorry for it; but oh! don't you know the feeling of wanting to have one's treasure all to oneself for a little moment before showing it? No, don't go;' and the two sisters flung their arms round one another. 'You shall hear now.'

'No, no,' said Bertha, kissing her; 'my time for obtrusive, childish curiosity is over! I only was so anxious;' and she looked up with tearful eyes, and almost the air of an elder sister. Phoebe might well requite the look with full-hearted tenderness and caresses, as she said, calmly, 'Yes, Bertha, I am very happy.'

'You ought to be,' said Bertha, seriously.

'Yes,' said Phoebe, taking the ought in a different sense from what she meant; 'he is all, and more, than I ever thought a man wise in true wisdom should be.'

'And a man of progress, full of the dignity of labour,' said Bertha. 'I am glad he is not an old bit of county soil like John Raymond! My dear Phoebe, Sir John will tear his hair!'

'For shame, Bertha!'

'Well, I will not tease you with my nonsense; but you know it is the only thing that keeps tears out of one's eyes. I see you want to be alone. Dear Phoebe!' and she clung to her neck for a moment.

'An instant more, Bertha. You see everything, I know; but has Miss Fennimore guessed?'

'No, my dear, I do not think any such syllogism has ever occurred to her as, Lover's look conscious; Phoebe looks conscious; therefore Phoebe is in love! It is defective in the major, you see, so it could not enter her brain.'

'Then, Bertha, do not let any one guess it. I shall speak to Mervyn to-morrow, and write to Robin. It is their due, but no one else must know it-no, not for a long time-years perhaps.'

'You do not mean to wait for years?'

'We must.'

'Then what's the use of having thirty thousand pounds?'

'No, Bertha, it would not be like him to be content with owing all to my fortune, and beginning life in idleness. It would be just enough to live on, with none of the duties of property, and that would never do! I could not wish it for him, and he has his brothers to provide for.'

'Well, let him work for them, and have your money to make capital! Really, Phoebe, I would not lose such a chance of going out and seeing those glorious Lakes!'

'I have Maria to consider.'

'Maria! And why are you to be saddled with Maria?'

'Because I promised my mother-I promised myself-I promised Mervyn, that she should be my care. I have told him of that promise, and he accepts it most kindly.'

'You cannot leave her to me? Oh! Phoebe, do you still think me as hateful as I used to be?'

'Dear, dear Bertha, I have full trust in your affection for her; but I undertook the charge, and I cannot thrust it on to another, who might-'

'Don't say that, Phoebe,' cried Bertha, impetuously; 'I am the one to have her! I who certainly never can, never shall, marry-I who am good for nothing but to look after her. Say you do not think me unworthy of her, Phoebe.'

'I say no such thing,' said Phoebe, affectionately, 'but there is no use in discussing the matter. Dear Bertha, leave me, and compose yourself.'

Truly, during that evening Bertha was the agitated one, her speech much affected, and her gestures restless, while Phoebe sat over her work, her needle going swiftly and evenly, and her eyes beaming with her quiet depth of thankful bliss.