me about Lady Mabel?"

There was a pause, so that he was driven to reply. "I found her as I
thought indifferent, and then--I changed my mind."

"Indifferent! What does she think about it now? Does she know of
this? How does it stand between you two at the present moment?"

"She knows that I am engaged to--Miss Boncassen."

"Does she approve of it?"

"Why should I ask her, sir? I have not asked her."

"Then why did you tell her? She could not but have spoken her mind
when you told her. There must have been much between you when this
was talked of."

The unfortunate young man was obliged to take some time before he
could answer this appeal. He had to own that his father had some
justice on his side, but at the same time he could reveal nothing of
Mabel's secret. "I told her because we were friends. I did not ask
her approval; but she did disapprove. She thought that your son
should not marry an American girl without family."

"Of course she would feel that."

"Now I have told you what she said, and I hope you will ask me
no further questions about her. I cannot make Lady Mabel my
wife;--though, for the matter of that, I ought not to presume that
she would take me if I wished it. I had intended to ask you to-day to
consent to my marriage with Miss Boncassen."

"I cannot give you my consent."

"Then I am very unhappy."

"How can I believe as to your unhappiness when you would have said
the same about Lady Mabel Grex a few weeks ago?"

"Nearly eight months," said Silverbridge.

"What is the difference? It is not the time, but the disposition of
the man! I cannot give you my consent. The young lady sees it in the
right light, and that will make your escape easy."

"I do not want to escape."

"She has indicated the cause which will separate you."

"I will not be separated from her," said Silverbridge, who was
beginning to feel that he was subjugated to tyranny. If he chose to
marry Isabel, no one could have a right to hinder him.

"I can only hope that you will think better of it, and that when next
you speak to me on that or any other subject you will answer me with
less arrogance."

This rebuke was terrible to the son, whose mind at the present moment
was filled with two ideas, that of constancy to Isabel Boncassen, and
then of respect and affection for his father. "Indeed, sir," he said,
"I am not arrogant, and if I have answered improperly I beg your
pardon. But my mind is made up about this, and I