n--ay or no?"

"But you take me so unawares--so--so--Lord, my dear Mr. Avenel; you are
so hasty--I--I--." And the widow actually blushed, and was genuinely
bashful.

"Those horrid Pompleys!" thought Richard, as he saw the Colonel bustling
up with Mrs. M'Catchley's cloak on his arm.

"I press for your answer," continued the suitor, speaking very fast. "I
shall leave this place to-morrow, if you will not give it."

"Leave this place--leave me?"

"Then you will be mine?"

"Ah, Mr. Avenel!" said the widow, languidly, leaving her hand in his;
"who can resist you?"

Up came Colonel Pompley; Richard took the shawl: "No hurry for that now,
Colonel--Mrs. M'Catchley feels already at home here."

Ten minutes afterward Richard Avenel so contrived that it was known by
the whole company that their host was accepted by the Honorable Mrs.
M'Catchley. And every one said, "He is a very clever man, and a very
good fellow," except the Pompleys--and the Pompleys were frantic. Mr.
Richard Avenel had forced his way into the aristocracy of the country.
The husband of an Honorable--connected with peers!

"He will stand for our city--Vulgarian!" cried the Colonel.

"And his wife will walk out before me," cried the Colonel's lady--"nasty
woman!" And she burst into tears.

The guests were gone; and Richard had now leisure to consider what
course to pursue with regard to his sister and her son.

His victory over his guests had in much softened his heart toward his
relations; but he still felt bitterly aggrieved at Mrs. Fairfield's
unseasonable intrusion, and his pride was greatly chafed by the boldness
of Leonard. He had no idea of any man whom he had served, or meant to
serve, having a will of his own--having a single thought in opposition
to his pleasure. He began, too, to feel that words had passed between
him and Leonard which could not be well forgotten by either, and would
render their close connection less pleasant than heretofore. He, the
great Richard Avenel, beg pardon of Mrs. Fairfield, the washerwoman! No;
she and Leonard must beg his. "That must be the first step," said
Richard Avenel; "and I suppose they have come to their senses." With
what expectation, he unlocked the door of his parlor, and found himself
in complete solitude. The moon, lately risen, shone full into the room,
and lit up every corner. He stared round, bewildered--the birds had
flown. "Did they go through the key-hole?" said Mr. Avenel. "Ha! I
see--the