o her, and--yes--I do love her
heartily--I would not have done it otherwise. I don't care for beauty
and trash, and my father has set his heart on it.'

'Yes, but--' she hesitated. 'My dear, I don't think it safe to marry,
because one's father has set his heart on it.'

'Indeed,' said Louis, straightening himself, 'I do think I am giving
myself the best chance of being made rational and consistent. I never
did so well as when I was under her.'

'N--n--no--but--'

'And think how my father will unbend in a homelike home, where all
should be made up to him,' he continued, deep emotion swelling his
voice.

'My dear boy! And you are sure of your own feeling?'

'Quite sure. Why, I never saw any one,' said he, smiling--'I never
cared for any one half so much, except you, Aunt Kitty, no, I didn't.
Won't that do?'

'I know I should not have liked your grandpapa--your uncle, I mean-to
make such comparisons.'

'Perhaps he had not got an Aunt Kitty,' said Louis.

'No, no! I can't have you so like a novel. No, don't be anxious. It
can't be for ever so long, and, of course, the more I am with her, the
better I must like her. It will be all right.'

'I don't think you know anything about it,' said Mrs. Frost, 'but
there, that's the last I shall say. You'll forgive your old aunt.'

He smiled, and playfully pressed her hand, adding, 'But we don't know
whether she will have me.'

Mary had meantime entered her mother's room, with a look that revealed
the whole to Mrs. Ponsonby, who had already been somewhat startled by
the demeanour of the father and son at breakfast.

'Oh, mamma, what is to be done?'

'What do you wish, my child?' asked her mother, putting her arm round
her waist.

'I don't know yet,' said Mary. 'It is so odd!' And the disposition to
laugh returned for a moment.

'You were not at all prepared.'

'Oh no! He seems so young. And,' she added, blushing, 'I cannot tell,
but I should not have thought his ways were like the kind of thing.'

'Nor I, and the less since Clara has been here.'

'Oh,' said Mary, without a shade on her calm, sincere brow, 'he has
Clara so much with him because he is her only friend.'

The total absence of jealousy convinced Mrs. Ponsonby that the heart
could hardly have been deeply touched, but Mary continued, in a
slightly trembling voice, 'I do not see why he should have done this,
unless--'

'Unless that his father wished it.'

'Oh,' said Mary, somewhat dis