She sank on the nearest chair, and closed her eyes in a flutter of
delicious confusion.

The footsteps ascending to the summer-house came nearer. Blanche opened
her eyes, and saw Anne Silvester, standing alone, looking at her. She
sprang to her feet, and threw her arms impulsively round Anne's neck.

"You don't know what has happened," she whispered. "Wish me joy,
darling. He has said the words. He is mine for life!"

All the sisterly love and sisterly confidence of many years was
expressed in that embrace, and in the tone in which the words were
spoken. The hearts of the mothers, in the past time, could hardly
have been closer to each other--as it seemed--than the hearts of the
daughters were now. And yet, if Blanche had looked up in Anne's face at
that moment, she must have seen that Anne's mind was far away from her
little love-story.

"You know who it is?" she went on, after waiting for a reply.

"Mr. Brinkworth?"

"Of course! Who else should it be?"

"And you are really happy, my love?"

"Happy?" repeated Blanche "Mind! this is strictly between ourselves. I
am ready to jump out of my skin for joy. I love him! I love him! I love
him!" she cried, with a childish pleasure in repeating the words. They
were echoed by a heavy sigh. Blanche instantly looked up into Anne's