well."

"Suits _me_, forsooth! Yes; he has pretended to make my opinions and
tastes his own. He has humoured me for good reasons. I think, Polly,
you and I will bid him good-by."

"Till to-morrow only. Shake hands with Graham, papa."

"No: I think not: I am not friends with him. Don't think to coax me
between you."

"Indeed, indeed, you _are_ friends. Graham, stretch out your right
hand. Papa, put out yours. Now, let them touch. Papa, don't be stiff;
close your fingers; be pliant--there! But that is not a clasp--it is a
grasp? Papa, you grasp like a vice. You crush Graham's hand to the
bone; you hurt him!"

He must have hurt him; for he wore a massive ring, set round with
brilliants, of which the sharp facets cut into Graham's flesh and drew
blood: but pain only made Dr. John laugh, as anxiety had made him smile.

"Come with me into my study," at last said Mr. Home to the doctor. They
went. Their intercourse was not long, but I suppose it was conclusive.
The suitor had to undergo an interrogatory and a scrutiny on many
things. Whether Dr. Bretton was at times guileful in look and language
or not, there was a sound foundation below. His answers, I understood
afterwards, evinced both wisdom and integrity. He had managed his
affairs well. He had struggled through entanglements; his fortunes were
in the way of retrieval; he proved himself in a position to marry.

Once more the father and lover appeared in the library. M. de
Bassompierre shut the door; he pointed to his daughter.

"Take her," he said. "Take her, John Bretton: and may God deal with you
as you deal with her!"

* * * * *

Not long after, perhaps a fortnight, I saw three persons, Count de
Bassompierre, his daughter, and Dr. Graham Bretton, sitting on one
seat, under a low-spreading and umbrageous tree, in the grounds of the
palace at Bois l'Etang. They had come thither to enjoy a summer
evening: outside the magnificent gates their carriage waited to take
them home; the green sweeps of turf spread round them quiet and dim;
the palace rose at a distance, white as a crag on Pentelicus; the
evening star shone above it; a forest of flowering shrubs embalmed the
climate of this spot; the hour was still and sweet; the scene, but for
this group, was solitary.

Paulina sat between the two gentlemen: while they conversed, her little
hands were busy at some work; I thought at first she was binding a
nosegay. No; with the tiny p