Her aunt's recollections of her mother were all too external to satisfy the yearnings of her heart towards that mother.

Often had she sat gazing upon the picture which represented to her eyes the form and face of a parent she had never seen; and sought to comprehend some of the meanings in the blue orbs that looked down upon her so calmly.

But ever had she turned away with vague, unquiet, restless feelings.
"If my mother had lived!" she would sometimes say to herself, "she could comprehend me.

Into her ears I could speak words that now sleep on my lips in perpetual silence.
"Oh, if my mother were alive!" sobbed the unhappy girl, as the door closed on the retiring form of worldly-minded Aunt Phoebe.

"If my mother were only alive! "Affianced!" she said a little while after, as thought went back to the interview between herself and Mrs.Loring which had just closed.
"Affianced! Yes, that was the word.