The moment she had pronounced the last words, Ferdinand threw himself on his knee, and kissed her hand:—"Forgive me," was all he could utter. She raised him, and for a moment both were silent.
"Your generous frankness, my dear Miss D'Allenberg, has overwhelmed me with rapture; my future life must speak my gratitude; joy is not eloquent when so complete as mine."
She arose—"If you please we will seek my father."—He took her hand, and obeyed in silence. They saw Mr. D'Allenberg and Louisa advancing.
"Heyday!" said the latter, "what are you both speechless? Have you exhausted all your stock of ideas, that not a single word is left to ask our opinion of the intended plan for building?"
"You are malicious, Louisa," returned her friend, blushing.
"Sorrow, my dear Madam," answered Ferdinand, "often makes people plaintive, and the overcharged heart sometimes finds
