I knew it at once by the altered, beaming expression of his countenance.
"Give me smiles or tears, dear Gabriella," he answered, in the same undertone; "only do not forget me, only think of me as I wish to be remembered." He pressed my hand warmly, energetically, while uttering these words; then, without giving me time to reply, bowed again to Mrs.Linwood and left the room.
"A very fine, promising young man," said Mrs.Linwood, with emphasis.
"A most intelligent, agreeable companion," added the gentle Edith, looking smilingly at me, as if expecting me to say something.
"Very," responded I, in a constrained manner.
"Is that all ?" she asked, laying her soft, white hand on my shoulders, and looking archly in my face; "is that all, Gabriella ?" "Indeed, you are mistaken," said I, hastily; "he is nothing more,--and yet I am wrong to say that,--he has been,--he is like a brother to me, Edith, and never will be any thing more." "Oh, these brother friends!" she exclaimed, with a burst of musical laughter, "how very near they seem! But wait, Gabriella, till you see _my_ brother,--he is one to boast of." "Edith!" said her mother.

Edith turned her blue eyes from me to her mother, with a look of innocent surprise.

The tone seemed intended to check her,--yet what had she said?
"You should not raise expectations in Gabriella which will not be realized," observed Mrs.Linwood, in that quiet tone of hers which had so much power.

"Ernest, however dear he may be to us as a son and brother, has peculiar traits which sometimes repel the admiration of strangers.

His impenetrable reserve chills the warmth of enthusiasm, while the fitfulness of his morals produces constant inquietude.