think of my poor unhappy Claude, what he did, and what he must have
suffered!"

"I know what he did. I do not know what he suffered. My case, however,
is different from his. I am not engaged to any one."

"Arnold, think of the great scheme of life I have drawn out for you.
My dear boy, would you throw that all away?"

She laid her hands upon his arm and looked in his eyes with a pitiful
gaze. He took her hands in his.

"My dear, every man must shape his life for himself, or must live out
the life shaped for him by his fate, not by his friends. What if I see
a life more delightful to me than that of which you dream?"

"You talk of a delightful life, Arnold; I spoke of an honorable
career."

"Mine will be a life of quiet work and love. Yours, Clara, would be of
noisy and troublesome work without love."

"Without love, Arnold? You are infatuated."

She sunk into the chair and buried her face in her hands. First, it
was her lover who had deserted her for the sake of a governess, the
daughter of some London tradesman; and now her adopted son, almost the
only creature she loved, for whom she had schemed and thought for
nearly twenty years, was ready to give up everything for the sake of
another governess, also connected with the lower forms of commercial
interests.

"It is very hard, Arnold," she said. "No, don't try to persuade me. I
am getting an old woman, and it is too late for me to learn that a
gentleman can be happy unless he marries a lady. You might as well ask
me to look for happiness with a grocer."

"Not quite," said Arnold.

"It is exactly the same thing. Pray, have you proposed to this--this
young lady of the second-hand bookshop?"

"No, I have not."

"You are in love with her, however?"

"I am, Clara."

"And you intend to ask her--in the shop, I dare say, among the
second-hand books--to become your wife?"

"That is my serious intention, Clara."

"Claude did the same thing. His father remonstrated with him in vain,
he took his wife to London, where, for a time, he lived in misery and
self-reproach."

"Do you know that he reproached himself?"

"I know what must have happened when he found out his mistake. Then he
went to America, where he died, no doubt in despair, although his
father had forgiven him."

"The cases are hardly parallel," said Arnold. "Still, will you permit
me to introduce Miss Aglen to you, if she should do me the honor of
accepting me? Be generous, Clara. Do not conde