hat she should not fail to hear
it.

'I stake my reputation I have heard her called Shrapnel--Miss Shrapnel,'
said Cecil.

The doctor glanced hastily from one to the other of his visitors. 'The
young lady is my ward; I am her guardian,' he said.

Cecil pursed his mouth. 'I have heard her called your niece.'

'Niece--ward; she is a lady by birth and education, in manners,
accomplishments, and character; and she is under my protection,' cried
Dr. Shrapnel.

Cecil bowed. 'So you are for gentle birth? I forgot you are for morality
too, and for praying; exactly; I recollect. But now let me tell you,
entirely with the object of conciliation, my particular desire is to see
the young lady, in your presence of course, and endeavour to persuade
her, as I have very little doubt I shall do, assuming that you give
me fair play, to exercise her influence, on this occasion contrary
to yours, and save my cousin Captain Beauchamp from a fresh
misunderstanding with his uncle Mr. Romfrey. Now, sir; now, there!'

'You will not see Miss Denham with my sanction ever,' said Dr. Shrapnel.

'Oh! Then I perceive your policy. Mark, sir, my assumption was that the
young lady would, on hearing my representations, exert herself to heal
the breach between Captain Beauchamp and his family. You stand in the
way. You treat me as you treated the lady who came here formerly to
wrest your dupe from your clutches. If I mistake not, she saw the young
lady you acknowledge to be your ward.'

Dr. Shrapnel flashed back: 'I acknowledge? Mercy and justice! is there
no peace with the man? You walk here to me, I can't yet guess why, from
a town where I have enemies, and every scandal flies touching me and
mine; and you--' He stopped short to master his anger. He subdued it
so far as to cloak it in an attempt to speak reasoningly, as angry men
sometimes deceive themselves in doing, despite the good maxim for the
wrathful--speak not at all. 'See,' said he, 'I was never married. My
dear friend dies, and leaves me his child to protect and rear; and
though she bears her father's name, she is most wrongly and foully made
to share the blows levelled at her guardian. Ay, have at me, all of
you, as much as you will! Hold off from her. Were it true, the cowardice
would be not a whit the smaller. Why, casting a stone like that, were
it the size of a pebble and the weight of a glance, is to toss the whole
cowardly world on an innocent young girl. And why suspect evil?