"And cut off your own son?"

"To be sure. Punish him, by all means.
At least they think we can. I should not like
to take such a harsh step. I really don't
know what to do. It is very hard on your
daughter. He has not treated her well."

"Never mind us, Mr. Leader; I can take
care of her and myself, and will too. But
will you excuse a bit of advice? Take a
line of your own. You're head of the
house, you know; and dealing with other
people, it's a little embarrassing to have
the impearyum in impearyo—Mrs. Leader
and her brother—setting aside what you
say. But between them all they've driven
me to action in self-defence, and next
Sunday the Reverend Mr. Webber gives
out the banns!"

Leaving Mr. Leader awe-stricken and
scared by this announcement, the Doctor
went on his way, first to the barracks,
where he saw his friend the colonel. The
latter told him, with great sympathy, how
they had got a letter from the Horse Guards,
and how a short leave could not be refused.

"But I can tell you where they have
sent him to, Fin," said the colonel. "Not
so far off either. I'll take care he's back
in a month. Miss Katey, my friend, shan't
lose him, though, between you and me, she's
a deal too good for such a chap."

"My dear colonel, go to church next
Sunday, and you'll hear Billy Webber
trumpeting out, 'If any of you know of
any impediment,' and all the rest of it."

"My dear Fin, I am so glad. You're
the cleverest fellow out. How did you
bring them over?"

"Oh, never mind them. I take my own
way, colonel. I've a good deal of the Paddy-
go-easy in me, till I'm roused. What was
it Bony the Great said: 'Scrape me, and
you're sure to break your nails.' Had they
behaved, sir, with one spar-ruck of
gentlemanly feeling, I'd have met them three
quarters of the way; but, as they've chosen
this mean, low line of doing business, and to
insult my child, may I never drink punch
again if I don't force it on them; and before
three weeks are out, Katey shall be married
here in this town, in this parish, before
their eyes, under their proud nose, in what
they call their own church. There!"

"You're a wonderful fellow, Fin!" the
colonel said, in admiration; "and more
power to you."

The Doctor went his way again, this time
down to Messrs. M'Intyre, the eminent
milliners of the place, and had a long
private interview with the head of the
firm. He was treated with prodigious
respect, and a flutter went quite through the
place as he came out. And, at last, after a
good morning's work, he returned home
and wrote the following letter to his future
son-in-law:

MY DEAR CECIL,—You did not keep
your appointment this morning, which,
considering that a lady was in the case, was
decidedly out of place, and ungallant, too,
when we think of other relations. Now,
my dear friend, I want to tell you one or
two things. The Reverend William Webber
gives out your banns next Sunday, please
God. I must beg you will return at once,
after you have done whatever business
took you to your present abode. We'll
expect you at six sharp to-morrow, to a
noble bit of venison and good company.
As you may conceive, we have a hundred
and one things to talk over and plan; the
time is very short. Failing your presence
I shall start myself the next day, and bear
you company home. I have told Katey it
was pressing business that took you off so
suddenly. Girls, you know, are so sensitive
about these things, and I've patched
it up for you as well as I could. I told
her it was to get a little present. Ingenious,
eh? Relying on your presence, my
dear boy,

                       Always yours,

                                        PETER FINDLATER.

P.S. The women are choosing Katey's
trousseau; councils every minute; milliners
going up and down; the sound of scissors
ring. Billy Webber has squashed two
band-boxes. You should see Katey in her
orange blossoms—a divine girl.

These were wonderful days for Tilston.
All was concentrated on the Findlater
family. The ladies of that household lived
in a sort of tumult and flutter, as if in a
dream. Katey had not time to think—to
reflect whither she was being hurried.
She was like a soldier in a great army,
swept on in the ranks, thinking only of the
honour of the country—that is, of her
family. Every one knew of the struggle
that was going on; every one heard from
Doctor Findlater that a day had been fixed
for the wedding; and, if they thought
such a statement was to be received with
"a pinch of salt," they might come to
church on Sunday and hear Billy Webber
publish the banns. But where was the
young man? That was the awkwardness.
No; the Doctor had a letter from him only