"Oh, no!" replied her uncle, in a very decided tone; "she wouldn't do at all; she's too old. I've been thinking about it for some time; you want a young person, and so I am going to get married."
"O Uncle Robert!" cried Rachel, jumping up, and taking hold of his arm; "don't get married! please don't! I'd rather never go to Europe as long as I live, than to have you do that!"
"I am sure you are very kind indeed," replied her uncle, "to give up your pleasure on my account; but really I don't see as I can very well help being married now, for I've asked the lady, and she said yes."
"O uncle! uncle! to think of your getting married just for the sake of having some one to go to Europe with me! It's dreadful!"
"Yes, dear, I think it would be, if that were the case; but to tell you the truth I am very much in love with the lady myself."
"Then I shall hate her!" exclaimed Rachel, dropping her uncle's arm,--"I know I shall hate her!"
Marion had been sitting perfectly quiet during this conversation, with her back turned towards the speaker; she now rose, and attempted to pass by Dr. Drayton into the parlor; but he caught her with both hands, and turned her round towards his niece, saying, as he did so, "Allow me, Rachel, to introduce you to your future aunt; if you don't love her for my sake, try to for her own; she's worth it."
Rachel stood in speechless astonishment, and Marion, also, could not utter a word.
"This is a pretty state of things, I must say," said the doctor.
"Rachel, won't you kiss your Aunt Marion?"
"Kiss her!" exclaimed Rachel, finding her voice, and throwing her arms round Marion's neck; "I thought I loved her before, but _now_ I shall fairly worship her! I never was so happy in my life!"
"Nor I either," whispered Marion, very softly.
"But I don't understand it," cried Rachel, still in a state of bewilderment. "I never thought of such a thing. I thought you didn't like Marion at all, Uncle Robert."
"I know it, my dear, and she thought the same; but I have satisfied her to the contrary, and I guess I can you."
"Ah! Uncle Robert," said Rachel, archly, "I guess I _shan't_ have the handsomest diamond-ring at Bigelow's; I suppose Marion has that."
"No, she has not," replied the doctor, lifting Marion's left hand, on which Rachel could see in the moonlight a heavy, plain, gold ring.
"What!--not diamonds?"
"No," replied the doctor, as he held the hand in both his own; "my wife shall have all the diamonds she wants, but this ring must be plain gold."
"Are you satisfied, Marion?" asked Rachel.
Marion gave a quick glance up at the doctor, then looked at Rachel, as she answered, "Perfectly."