d which she had so utterly forgotten in making
her engagement with Mr. Arabin.

Mr. Harding thought for a moment who the man could be whom he was to
be called upon to welcome as his son-in-law. A week since he would
have had no doubt whom to name. In that case he would have been
prepared to give his sanction, although he would have done so with a
heavy heart. Now he knew that at any rate it would not be Mr. Slope,
though he was perfectly at a loss to guess who could possibly have
filled the place. For a moment he thought that the man might be
Bertie Stanhope, and his very soul sank within him.

"Well, Nelly?"

"Oh, Papa, promise to me that, for my sake, you will love him."

"Come, Nelly, come; tell me who it is."

"But will you love him, Papa?"

"Dearest, I must love anyone that you love." Then she turned her face
to his and whispered into his ear the name of Mr. Arabin.

No man that she could have named could have more surprised or more
delighted him. Had he looked round the world for a son-in-law to his
taste, he could have selected no one whom he would have preferred to
Mr. Arabin. He was a clergyman; he held a living in the neighbourhood;
he was of a set to which all Mr. Harding's own partialities most
closely adhered; he was the great friend of Dr. Grantly; and he was,
moreover, a man of whom Mr. Harding knew nothing but what he approved.
Nevertheless, his surprise was so great as to prevent the immediate
expression of his joy. He had never thought of Mr. Arabin in connexion
with his daughter; he had never imagined that they had any feeling
in common. He had feared that his daughter had been made hostile to
clergymen of Mr. Arabin's stamp by her intolerance of the archdeacon's
pretensions. Had he been put to wish, he might have wished for Mr.
Arabin for a son-in-law; but had he been put to guess, the name would
never have occurred to him.

"Mr. Arabin!" he exclaimed; "impossible!"

"Oh, Papa, for heaven's sake don't say anything against him! If you
love me, don't say anything against him. Oh, Papa, it's done and
mustn't be undone--oh, Papa!"

Fickle Eleanor! Where was the promise that she would make no choice
for herself without her father's approval? She had chosen, and now
demanded his acquiescence. "Oh, Papa, isn't he good? Isn't he noble?
Isn't he religious, high-minded, everything that a good man possibly
can be?" She clung to her father, beseeching him for his consent.

"My Nelly, my child, my o