and unmanageable antagonist, and
Kätchen at last resolved to give up the struggle
and float with the tide. Just as she had arrived
at this philosophical decision, a footstep crushed
the pebbles on the beach, and Caspar Ebner
stood before her. He advanced with
outstretched arms, but Kätchen jumped up with a
start and made quite a leap backwards.

"Did I frighten you, Katarina?" said Ebner,
a little crestfallen.

"No, only you came sudden like."

"Are you not cold here, sitting still? The
air blows chill from the lake. Will you walk a
little way with me?"

Kätchen's knees trembled as she complied
with his request. She was in a nervous fever
of apprehension, but Ebner did not at once
broach the important topic. This was a
respite, but then she almost wished he would
plunge boldly into the subject, waiting was so
dreadful. She had not to wait long, however.

"Kätchen," said Ebner, when they had
walked a few yards side by side, "have you
thought of what I said to you?"

"Yes," said Kätchen, in a faint little voice.

"I kept my word, did I not? I went away
and left you quite free." No answer.

"Kätchen, may I hope you have a kind word
to say to me? It will be easy for you, but, oh,
how precious to me!"

"It— it isn't easy," said Kätchen, with a
childlike catching of her breath. ,

"Well, no; perhaps not quite easy for a
young maiden to say; but you will say it, eh,
Kätchen? You will tell me that you will be
my wife, my treasure, my darling, the mistress
of my home?" And he caught her two cold little
hands in his, bending down his tall form so as to
look into her face. The action roused Kätchen
into energy. She wrenched away her hands,
though he held them in a strong grasp, and
clasped them before her tearful eyes.

"No, no, no, I can't. Indeed— indeed I
can't. Don't he angry with me; I am grateful
indeed. You are very kind and very generous,
but I can't marry you." And she sobbed as
though she would choke. Ebner stood and looked
at her. A hundred thoughts rushed through his
mind, but he could find only one word.

"Why?" he said, jerking the syllable dryly
out of his throat.

"Because I— I can't," sobbed Kätchen.

It did not sound logical, but it was true.

"You can. If you choose to say yes, you can,
unless there is some one else that you love."
Ebner's throat seemed to get drier and drier, and
the words came huskily. Kätchen caught at
them. They seemed to offer a tangible reason.

"There is some one who loves me very
much— " she began, and then stopped short.
Ebner's brow darkened into a frown, and he
looked sternly at the weeping girl.

"You have deceived me, then," said he, at last
"I trusted in you. I saw you were childish
but I did not think you dishonourable."

"Dishonourable! Oh dear, oh dear, what
makes you say such things, and look like that?"

"Yes, dishonourable. I repeat it. Cruel
and heartless. You have been playing with me;
drawing me on, and all the while you were the
promised wife of another man. Why did you
not tell me so at once, honestly?"

"But I'm not," retorted Kätchen, roused to
anger in her turn. She was in the wrong, but
that did not make her the less angry. "I'm
not his promised wife, and how dare you
say so?  I'll never have him. I don't love him,
nor you, nor anybody. I wish I had never
been born, I do. You're all cruel and
unkind, and I hate you, every one!" Kätchen
wrapped her cloak over her head,
and ran off sobbing, with her apron at her
swollen tear-stained eyes. Ebner was astounded.
Was this his sweet, bright, good-humoured
Kätchen? This pettish, passionate, unreasonable
girl? Caspar Ebner was in love, it was
true, but then he had just been refused; and
that, perhaps, helped to make him clear-sighted.
At all events, he did perceive that Kätchen had
been strangely wayward, capricious, and, he
thought, deceitful. When a man seriously means
to ask a girl to be his wife, it is difficult to
persuade him that she is not fully aware of his
intention. He could not but believe that Kätchen
had understood his feelings from the first, and
now she cast him off, and told him of some one
else who loved her. His amour propre was
deeply hurt. In truth, Ebner had not been at
all unconscious of the advantages which Kätchen
would have derived from his alliance. She was
penniless, burdened with a shiftless old father,
and in a humble rank of life; but if she had
consented to marry him, he would never have
made her feel these things by word or deed.
Now they came vividly before his mind. He had
been willing to give up his easy selfish bachelor
life, to raise this ignorant little peasant girl to
be the mistress of his home; more than willing,
eager to do so, but now under the shock of her
unreasonable behaviour, he said to himself that
it would have been a sacrifice. And so he
walked slowly home, scorching out the pain of
disappointed love with the heat of his angry
resentment. But, alas! the anger would soon pass,
and leave the wounded heart still smarting.

On the 10th of December will be published, stitched in a
                   cover, price Fourpence,

                      MUGBY JUNCTION.

THE EXTRA NUMBER FOR CHRISTMAS.

                          CONTENTS.

BARBOX BROTHERS . . . . .  . . . . . . . . By CHARLES DICKENS. BARBOX BROTHERS AND CO. . . . . . . By CHARLES DICKENS. MAIN LINE, THE BOY AT MUGBY . . . . .By CHARLES DICKENS. No.1 BRANCH LINE. THE  . . . . . . . . . . .By CHARLES  DICKENS. SIGNALMAN
No. 2 BRANCH LINE. THE ENGINE  . . . By ANDREW HALLIDAY DRIVER.
No. 3 BRANCH LINE. THE . . . . . . . . . . By CHARLES COLLINS. COMPENSATION HOUSE
No. 4 BRANCH LINE. THE . . . . . . . . . . By HESDA STRETTON.
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ENGINEER