turning up whenever
one wanted to do a civil thing by that poor girl. Where is she now?'

'At New York.'

'They'd better take care how they send me to watch the Yankees, then.'

'Your passion does not alarm me greatly,' laughed the Doctor. 'I don't
think it ever equalled that for the reigning ship. I hope there's a
vacancy in that department for the present, and that we may have you at
home a little.'

'Indeed, sir, I'm afraid not,' said Harry. 'I saw Captain Gordon at
Portsmouth this morning, and he tells me he is to go out in the Clio to
the Pacific station, and would apply for me as his first lieutenant, if
I liked to look up the islands again. So, if you have any commissions
for Norman, I'm your man.

'And how soon?'

'Uncertain--but Cheviot and Mary must settle their affairs in good
time; I've missed all the weddings in the family hitherto, and won't be
balked of Polly's. I say, Ethel, you can't mean me not to go and wish
her joy.'

'We are by no means come to joy yet,' said Ethel; 'poor Mary is overset
by the suddenness of the thing.'

'Why, I thought it was all fixed.'

'Nothing less so,' said the Doctor. 'One would think it was a naiad
that had had an offer from the mountains next, for she has been
shedding a perfect river of tears ever since; and all that the united
discernment of the family has yet gathered is, that she cries rather
more when we tell her she is right to say No than when we tell her she
is right to say Yes.'

'I declare, Ethel, you must let me go up to her.'

'But, Harry, I promised she should hear no more about it to-night. You
must say nothing unless she begins.'

And thinking a quiet night's rest, free from further excitement, the
best chance of a rational day, Ethel was glad that her mission resulted
in the report, 'Far too nearly asleep to be disturbed;' but on the way
up to bed, soft as Harry's foot-falls always were, a voice came down
the stairs, 'That's Harry! Oh, come!' and with a face of triumph
turned back to meet Ethel's glance of discomfited warning, he bounded
up, to be met by Mary in her dressing-gown. 'O, Harry, why didn't you
come?' as she threw her arms round his neck.

'They wouldn't let me.'

'I did think I heard you; but when no one came I thought it was only
Richard, till I heard the dear old step, and then I knew. O, Harry!'
and still she gasped, with her head on his shoulder.

'They said you must be quiet.'

'O Harry! did you hear?'

'Y