afeard, seeing how earnest you was, that you
might be disappinted," said the honest cook.

George took the good woman's hand, and
was hypocrite enough to allow a shade of tranquil
resignation to be perceptible in his countenance
as he replied, with, a melancholy smile,
that it was not his first disappointment, and he
should overcome it as he might; adding, after
a decent pause, that he should dine at home
that day, and expected two friends.

Mrs. Turnover curtseyed, and prepared to
withdraw; but, pausing a moment, remarked:

"Hevery day I lives, I has occasion to bless
them last words as never hissued from the lips
of T."

"Tea?" said George, absently.

"The same was as follers," resumed Mrs.
Turnover. "He was total unconscious.
Indeed, we thought he were gone, when,
suddenly, he opens one eye, and winks twice;
which meaning 'stimilants,' they was giv', and
he says, faintly: 'Fishes don't enjy bilin'
water.' Thinking he was a wanderin', we
nodded cheerful-like; but he goes on: 'A
dillykid female 'oodn't live long at the bottom
of the Harctic Sea.' After that, we thought he
was going; but, with a great heffort, poor dear,
he just manages to hadd: 'Theer's social
differences. While there is, stick to 'em. When
there ain't, don't let 'em stick to you. Adoo!'"

"Your excellent husband seems to have
reserved many results of his experience to a very
late moment!" remarked George. "At this
precise moment, my mind is, I fear, too fully
occupied with selfish thoughts to appreciate them
properly. I have this morning escaped an
imminent peril (more than one, his thought
suggested), "and I am impatient till I have
thanked my deliverer. Is your niece sufficiently
recovered to afford me the opportunity?"

Mrs. Turnover considered that, by this time,
she was, and would hasten to see if such were
the case.

"I have played the booby long enough,"
soliloquised the master of the mansion, left alone.
"Honesty and common sense inspire me! I
will tell her the whole truth, and then——"

Mrs. Turnover had a harder task than she
expected. Her niece was indeed awake, and,
calmed and invigorated by her unwonted
siesta, looked as charming as need be. But
the going down — except for the single end of
going away — was not to be thought of.

At length, Mrs. Turnover lost all patience.

"Well, of all the contrairy creeters I ever did
see, you beats all! You wentered your life to
protect hisn — nay, I believe," added Mrs.
Turnover, darkly, "you've actially been a-dreamin'
of him." Esther started. "Child, you loves
him! Won't you go down-stairs?"

"If what you say were true, ma'am," Esther
replied, with burning cheeks, "you, of all
people, should be the last to force me into his
presence."

"Highty-tighty! Who wants to force your
ryal 'ighness? And why should I be the last
to make you do what in your 'art you wishes?"
demanded the cook, losing all control of her
temper. "Now, look here. If you don't go
down and be thanked like a reasonable woman,
I'll go to master myself, and tell him flat that
you was a-making love to his pictur. Now!"

"Aunt, aunt! I could not have believed that
you would have been so cruel — so — so—
wicked," said Esther, bursting into tears.

"Cruel! Wicked!" ejaculated Mrs. Turnover,
aghast. "Why, what——-"

"To compel me, feeling as you say and
believe I do, to hold any further intercourse with
this gentleman, to whom, miserably for yourself
and for him, you are about to be married!"

"Hoh! That's it? Who said we was going to
be married?" said her aunt, in an altered tone.

"Have you not accepted his offer?"

"Who's gone and put that nonsense into your
little head?" asked her aunt, with an assumption
of so much innocence that Esther gazed at
her in dumb surprise. "Don't you think it
possible as I might like to hear what they'd say
below, without railly meaning to make such a
ninny of myself as that comes to? P'raps I'd a
fancy to tease Mrs. Mapes. But, theer, a joke's
a joke, and if master had his'n, why, I've had
mine."

"Oh, aunt, I am so glad!" cried Esther.
"How wise! how prudent! how disinterested!"

"But, good gracious, child! you stand
chatterin' here, and master's waiting! Now, Esther,
I insist upon your going instant down. I'm not
going to be married to him a bit, and so I've told
him. Why, whatever is the matter with the girl?"
continued Mrs. Turnover, flushing with anger
and excitement. "You was glib enough to his
pictur. As I'm a livin' 'oman, I'll tell him."

The movement she made to quit the room
decided Esther.

"Stay, stay, aunt!" she exclaimed. "I will
go down. It will be better— in the end."

Uttering the last words almost in soliloquy,
she quitted the room.

The dialogue above recorded had allowed Sir
George a little time for renewed self-examination
and the arrangement of his thoughts, so
that, on Miss Vann making her appearance,
wearing very much the aspect of an empress
whose privacy has been invaded by the exigencies
of a public audience, he was prepared to
meet her with a dignity equal to — and an ease
greater than — her own.

Having made his purposed acknowledgments
for the service she had, at such imminent
personal hazard, rendered to himself and people,
George respectfully bespoke her further attention
for a few moments, and thereupon related,
without stint or pause, the history of his
engagement to Miss Mulcaster, its abrupt and
hopeless termination, his own mad yielding to a
wild and foolish impulse, the attempt he had
nevertheless felt it incumbent on him to make,
to carry it out, and its failure. In making these
humiliating confessions, he trusted his patient
hearer would at least give him credit for sincerity
of purpose. Had Miss Vann's estimable relation
accepted the overture he had been induced to
make, nothing should have been wanting on his
part that might reconcile her to the duties of her