mamma: 'If the fourteen thousand pounds was
in our hands, what should you do with it?'

The dear thing said she should settle at least
ten thousand of it on Me, and marry Me to this
poor motherless boy, 'whom I have learned to
love myself,' said she.

'There,' said Edward, 'you see it is you who
lose by your governor's—I won't say what—if
you marry my sister.'

Alfred took his hand, and said, 'God bless you
for telling me this.'

Then Edward turned to mamma and me; and
said, 'This poor fellow has left his father's house
because he wronged us: then this house ought
to open its arms to him: that is only justice;
but now to be just to our side; I have been to
Mr. Crawford, the lawyer, and I find this Hardie
junior has ten thousand pounds of his own. That
ought to be settled on Julia, to make up for what
she loses by Hardie senior's—I won't say what.'

'If anybody settles any of their trash on me,
I'll beat them, and throw it in the fire,' said I;
'and I hated money.'

The oracle asked me directly did I hate clothes
and food, and charity to the poor, and
cleanliness, and decency? Then I didn't hate money,
'for none of these things can exist without money,
you little romantic humbug; you shut up!'

Mamma rebuked him for his expressions, but
approved his sentiments. But I did not care
for his sentiments: for he smiled on me, and
said, 'We two are of one mind; we shall
transfer our fortune to Captain Dodd, whom my
father has robbed. Julia will consent to share
my honest poverty.'

'Well, we will talk about that,' said Edward,
pompously.

'Talk about it without me, then,' I cried, and
got up, and marched out indignant: only it was
partly my low cunning to hide my face that I
could not keep the rapture out of. And, as soon
as I had retired with cold dignity, off I skipped
into the garden to let my face loose, and I think
they sent him after me; for I heard his quick
step behind me; so I ran away from him as hard
as I could, and of course he soon caught me; in
the shrubbery where he first asked me to be his;
and he kissed both my hands again and again like
wildfire, as he is, and he said, 'You are right,
dearest; let them talk of their trash while I tell
you how I adore you; poverty with you will be
the soul's wealth; even misfortune, by your side,
would hardly be misfortune: let all the world
go, and let you and I be one, and live together,
and die together; for now I see I could not have
lived without you, nor without your love.' And
I whispered something on his shoulder, no matter
what; what signifies the cackle of a goose? and
we mingled our happy tears, and our hearts, and
our souls. Ah, Love is a sweet, a dreadful
passion: what we two have gone through for
one another in a few months! He dined with us,
and Edward and he sat a long, long, time talking;
I dare say it was only about their odious
money; still I envied Edward having him so
long. But at last he came up, and devoured me
with his lovely grey eyes, and I sang him Aileen
Aroon, and he whispered things in my ear, oh,
such sweet, sweet, idiotic, darling, things; I will
not part with even the shadow of one of them by
putting it on paper, only I am the blessedest
creature in all the world; and I only hope to goodness
it is not very wicked to be so happy as I am."

"Dec. 31st. It is all settled. Alfred returns
to Oxford to make up for lost time; the time
spent in construing Me instead of Greek: and
at the end of term he is to come of age and
marry—somebody. Marriage! oh what a word
to put down! It makes me tingle; it thrills
me; it frightens me, deliciously: no, not
deliciously; anything but: for suppose, being both
of us fiery, and they all say one of them ought
to be cold blooded for a pair to be happy, I should
make him a downright bad wife. Why then I hope
I shall die in a year or two out of my darling's
way, and let him have a good one instead.

I'd come back from the grave and tear her to
pieces."

"Jan. 4th. Found a saint in a garret over a
stable. Took her my luncheon clandestinely;
that is ladylike for 'under my apron': and was
detected and expostulated by Ned. He took me
into his studio—it is carpeted with shavings—and
showed me the 'Tiser digest, an enormous
book he has made of newspaper cuttings all in
apple-pie order; I mean alphabetical; and out
of this Authority he proved vice and poverty
abound most wherever there are most charities.
Oh, and 'the poor' a set of intoxicated sneaks,
and Me a Demoralising Influence. It is all very
fine: but why are there saints in garrets, and
half starved? that rouses all my evil passions,
and I cannot bear it; it is no use."

"Jan. 6th. Once a gay day; but now a sad
one. Mamma gone to see poor papa, where he
is. Alfred found me sorrowful, and rested my
forehead on his shoulder; that soothed me, while
it lasted. I think I should like to grow there.
Mem.! to burn this diary; and never let a
creature see a syllable.

As soon as he was gone, prayed earnestly on
my knees not to make an idol of him. For it is
our poor idols that are destoyed for our weakness.
Which really I cannot quite see the
justice of.

"Jan. 8th. Jane does not approve my proposal
that we should praise now and then at the same
hour instead of always praying. The dear girl
sends me her unconverted diary 'to show me she
is "a brand."' I have read most of it. But
really it seems to me she was always goodish:
only she went to parties, and read novels, and
enjoyed society.

There, I have finished it. Oh dear, how like
her unconverted diary is to my converted one!"

"Jan. 14th. A sorrowful day: he and I parted,
after a fortnight of the tenderest affection, and
that mutual respect, without which neither of us,
I think, could love long. I had resolved to be
very brave; but we were alone, and his bright