g young
doctor against the son of a lord."

"You would have no chance in any case," said Grace, with sudden
seriousness. "I once asked her father which his eldest daughter most
resembled, Rose or Eeny. 'Like neither,' was his reply. 'My daughter
Kate is beautiful, and stately, and proud as a queen.' I shall never
forget his own proud smile as he said it."

"You infer that Miss Danton, if free, would be too proud to mate with a
mere plebeian professional man."

"Yes."

"Then resignation is all that remains. Is it improper to smoke in this
sacred chamber, Grace? I must have something to console me. Quite a
grand alliance for Danton's daughter, is it not?"

"They do not seem to think so. I heard her father say he would not
consider a prince of the blood-royal too good for his peerless Kate."

"The duse he wouldn't! What an uplifted old fellow he must be!"

"Captain Danton is not old. His age is about forty-five, and he does not
look forty."

"Then I'll tell you what to do, Grace--marry him!"

"Frank, don't be absurd! Do you know you will have everything in this
room smelling of tobacco for a week. I can't permit it, sir."

"Well, I'll be off," said her brother, looking at his watch, "I promised
to return in half an hour for supper."

"Promised whom?"

"M. le Cure. Oh, you don't know I am stopping at the presbytery. I
happened to meet the curate, Father Francis, in Montreal--we were
school-boys together--and he was about the wildest, most mischievous
fellow I ever met. We were immense friends--a fellow-feeling, you know,
makes us wondrous kind. Judge of my amazement on meeting him on Notre
Dame street, in soutane and broad-brimmed hat, and finding he had taken
to Mother Church. You might have knocked me down with a feather, I
assure you. Mutual confidences followed; and when he learned I was
coming to St. Croix, he told me that I must pitch my tent with him.
Capital quarters it is, too; and M. le Cure is the soul of hospitality.
Will you give me a glass of wine after that long speech, and to fortify
me for my homeward route?"

Grace rang and ordered wine. Doctor Danton drank his glass standing, and
then drew on his gloves.

"Have you to walk?" asked his sister. "I will order the buggy for you."

"By no means. I rode up here on the Cure's nag, and came at the rate of
a funeral. The old beast seemed to enjoy himself, and to rather like
getting soaked through, and I have no doubt will return as he came. And