to my satisfaction, for I had felt very anxious about what my mother would think of him. He did not stay long that time; but when he rose to take leave, she said she should be happy to see him, whenever he might find it convenient to call again; and when he was gone, I was gratified by hearing her say,—
"Well! I think he's a very sensible man. But why did you sit back there, Agnes," she added, "and talk so little?"
"Because you talked so well, mama, I thought you required no assistance from me; and, besides, he was your visiter, not mine."
After that, he often called upon us—several times in the course of a week. He generally addressed most of his conversation to my mother; and no wonder, for she could converse. I almost envied the unfettered, vigorous fluency of her discourse, and the strong sense evinced by everything she said—and yet, I did not, for though I occasionally regretted my own deficiencies for his sake, it gave me very great pleasure to sit and hear the two beings, I loved and honoured above every one else in the world, discoursing together so amicably, so wisely, and so well.
I was not always silent, however; nor was I