Why，Iamproudtorememberthathehasbeentomeasabrother，andI
lovehimasasister，andIloveyoudoublybecausehehashonouredyouwithhislove。’’Come，that’snotcomplimentary！’saidCynthia，laughing，butnotill—pleasedtohearherlover’spraises，andevenwillingtodepreciatehimalittleinordertohearmore。’He’swellenough，Idaresay，andagreatdealtoolearnedandcleverforastupidgirllikeme；butevenyoumustacknowledgeheisveryplainandawkward；andIlikeprettythingsandprettypeople。’’Cynthia，Iwon’ttalktoyouabouthim。Youknowyoudon’tmeanwhatyouaresaying，andyouonlysayitoutofcontradiction，becauseIpraisehim。Heshan’tberundownbyyou，eveninjoke。’’Well，then，wewon’ttalkofhimatall。Iwassosurprisedwhenhebegantospeak—so——’andCynthialookedverylovely，blushinganddimplingupassherememberedhiswordsandlooks。Suddenlysherecalledherselftothepresenttime，andhereyecaughtontheleaffullofblackberries—thebroadgreenleaf，sofreshandcrispwhenMollyhadgathereditanhourorsoago，butnowsoftandflabby，anddying。Mollysawit，too，andfeltastrangekindofsympatheticpityforthepoorinanimateleaf。’Oh！whatblackberries！you’vegatheredthemforme，Iknow！’saidCynthia，sittingdownandbeginningtofeedherselfdaintily，touchingthemlightlywiththeendsofhertaperfingers，anddroppingeachripeberryintoheropenmouth。Whenshehadeatenabouthalfshestoppedsuddenlyshort。’HowIshouldliketohavegoneasfarasPariswithhim，’sheexclaimed。
’Isupposeitwouldnothavebeenproper；buthowpleasantitwouldhavebeen。IrememberatBoulogne’（anotherblackberry）’howIusedtoenvytheEnglishwhoweregoingtoParis；itseemedtomethenasifnobodystoppedatBoulogne，butdull，stupidschool—girls。’’Whenwillhebethere？’askedMolly。’OnWednesday，hesaid。I’mtowritetohimthere；atanyrateheisgoingtowritetome。’Mollywentabouttheadjustmentofherdressinaquiet，business—likemanner，notspeakingmuch；Cynthia，althoughsittingstill，seemedveryrestless。Oh！howmuchMollywishedthatshewouldgo。’Perhaps，afterall，’saidCynthia，afterapauseofapparentmeditation，’weshallneverbemarried。’’Whydoyousaythat？’saidMolly，almostbitterly。’Youhavenothingtomakeyouthinkso。Iwonderhowyoucanbeartothinkyouwon’t，evenforamoment。’’Oh！’saidCynthia；’youmustnotgoandtakemeaugrandsé；rieux。
IdaresayIdon’tmeanwhatIsay，butyouseeeverythingseemsadreamatpresent。Still，Ithinkthechancesareequal—thechancesforandagainstourmarriage，Imean。Twoyears！it’salongtime；hemaychangehismind，orImay；orsomeoneelsemayturnup，andsayI’mengagedtohim：whatshouldyouthinkofthat，Molly？I’mputtingsuchagloomythingasdeathquiteononeside，yousee；yetintwoyearshowmuchmayhappen。’’Don’ttalkso，Cynthia，pleasedon’t，’saidMolly，piteously。’Onewouldthinkyoudidnotcareforhim，andhecaressomuchforyou！’’Why，didIsayIdidnotcareforhim！Iwasonlycalculatingchances。
IamsureIhopenothingwillhappentopreventthemarriage。Only，youknowitmay，andIthoughtIwastakingastepinwisdom，inlookingforwardtoalltheevilsthatmightbefall。IamsureallthewisepeopleIhaveeverknownthoughtitavirtuetohavegloomyprognosticsofthefuture。