an of his own non-existence, and
his son left him with the full assurance that, even were he to know
that his life was menaced, he would be the last one to take any
precautionary measures for its protection. But, in truth, the fears of
Pownal were so slight, that after an allusion to them, he forbore to
dwell upon the subject, especially as the conversation took a turn as
interesting to him as it was unexpected.

"Thou art of an age, my son," said Holden, abruptly, "to take to thee
a wife, and the bounty of the good man whose name I permit thee still
to bear, hath placed thee in a condition to gratify an innocent and
natural desire. Hath thy heart moved at all in this matter?"

The question was excessively embarrassing, and the young man blushed
and hesitated as he replied, that there was yet abundant time to think
of such things.

"Think not," said the Solitary, observing his son's hesitation, "that
I desire to intrude into thy confidence, though the heart of a son
should be like a clear stream, the bottom of which may be seen by a
father's eye. I speak, because partly common fame, and partly my own
observation, connect thy name in some wise with a young lady's."

"And who is the lady," inquired Pownal, laughing, "whom my indiscreet
gallantry has so compromised?"

"Nay, if thou wilt not be frank with me, or choosest to reply in the
language of trifling, we will drop the subject."

"I will be frank. I will answer any question you may ask."

"Tell me, then, is there any relation between thee and Anne Bernard
tenderer than that of common acquaintance?"

Pownal expected the question, and was therefore prepared.

"I esteem Miss Bernard highly," he said. "I am acquainted with no
young lady who is her superior. I should consider myself fortunate to
attract her attention. But nothing, except the language of friendship,
has passed betwixt us."

"I am satisfied," said Holden, "and it is evidence of excellence in
thyself that one possessing the lovable and noble qualities of Anne
should attract thee. But though, in the limited circle of the small
town, thy presence may be acceptable in the withdrawing room of the
wealthy lawyer, thinkest thou he will be willing to give thee the hand
of his only daughter?"

"I have made no pretensions to the hand of Miss Bernard; and even if I
did, I see in it no presumption. There is no distinction of patrician
and plebeian in this country."

"There are no such names, and yet there