judgment--you can appeal to his high and
generous nature--you can tell him how dear he is to you, how you love
him with more than a brother's love: you can and will do all this--will
you not, dear Frank?"

"Of course I shall do everything that I am able, my dear child," replied
I, somewhat astonished at this sudden outburst; "and now go, and be
quiet, this business seems rather to have excited you. If my mother asks
for me, tell her I am gone up to the Hall."

"What warm-hearted creatures women are!" thought I, as I ran, rather
than walked, through the park; "that little sister of mine, now--no
sooner does she hear that _my_ friend has got into a scrape, of the very
nature of which she is ignorant (a pretty fuss she would be in if she
were aware that it was a duel, of which I am afraid), than she becomes
quite excited, and implores me, as if she were pleading for her life, to
use my influence with Harry to prevent his doing--something, she has not
the most remote notion what. I wish she did not act quite so much from
impulse. It's lucky she has got a brother to take care of her; though it
does not become me to find fault with her, for it all proceeds from her
affection for me; she knows how wretched I should be if anything were
to go wrong with Harry,"--and then I fell into a train of thought as to
what it could be which had so suddenly excited him: something connected
with Wilford, no doubt; but what?--my fears pointed to a challenge,
and my blood ran cold at the thought. He _must_ accept it; neither my
influence, were it increased a hundredfold, nor that of any one else,
could make him apologise; besides, it is not very easy to imagine a
satisfactory apology for horse-whipping a man till he cannot stand. And
what course likely to be of any use could I take? On one point I was
resolved--nothing ~203~~should induce me to become his second. What
would be my feelings in case of a fatal result were I to reflect that I
had made all the arrangements for the murder of the friend I loved
best in the world--that I had actually stationed him opposite the
never-failing pistol of his most bitter enemy, and placed in his hand a
deadly weapon wherewith to attempt the life of a fellow-creature, when
the next moment he might be called upon to answer before the Judge of
all mankind for the deeds which he had done in the flesh? No! I could
not be his second. As my meditations reached this point, I overtook
the groom who had brought the