es, indeed,' holding her closer, 'and heartily glad I am; I know him
as well as if I had sailed with him, and I could not wish you in better
hands.'

'But--O, Harry dear--' and there was a struggle with a sob between each
word, 'indeed--I won't--mind if you had rather not.'

'Do you mean that you don't like him?'

'I should see him, you know, and perhaps he would not mind--he could
always come and talk to papa in the evenings.'

'And is that what you want to put a poor man off with, Mary?'

'Only--only--if you don't want me to--'

'I not want you to--? Why, Mary, isn't it the very best thing I could
want for you? What are you thinking about?'

'Don't you remember, when you came home after your wound, you said I--I
mustn't--' and she fell into such a paroxysm of crying that he had
quite to hold her up in his arms, and though his voice was merry, there
was a moisture on his eyelashes. 'Oh, you Polly! You're a caution
against deluding the infant mind! Was that all? Was that what made
you distract them all? Why not have said so?'

'Oh, never! They would have said you were foolish.'

'As I was for not knowing that you wouldn't understand that I only
meant you were to wait till the right one turned up. Why, if I had
been at Auckland, would you have cried till I came home?'

'Oh, I'm sorry I was silly! But I'm glad you didn't mean it, dear
Harry!' squeezing him convulsively.

'There! And now you'll sleep sound, and meet them as fresh as a fair
wind to-morrow. Eh?'

'Only please tell papa I'm sorry I worried him.'

'And how about somebody else, Mary, whom you've kept on tenter-hooks
ever so long? Are you sure he is not walking up and down under the
limes on the brink of despair?'

'Oh, do you think--? But he would not be so foolish!'

'There now, go to sleep. I'll settle it all for you, and I shan't let
any one say you are a goose but myself. Only sleep, and get those
horrid red spots away from under your eyes, or perhaps he'll repent his
bargain, said Harry, kissing each red spot. 'Promise you'll go to bed
the instant I'm gone.'

'Well,' said Dr. May, looking out of his room, 'I augur that the spirit
of the flood has something to say to the spirit of the fell.'

'I should think so! Genuine article--no mistake.'

'Then what was all this about?'

'All my fault. Some rhodomontade of mine about not letting her marry
had cast anchor in her dear little ridiculous heart, and it is well I
turn