r he is, he will have to wait three years, and so I
told him. It is my cousin Compton."

"What!" cried Richard Bassett, so loudly that the girl started back
dismayed. "That little monkey have the impudence to offer marriage to
my daughter? Surely, Ruperta, you have offered him no encouragement?"

"N--no."

"Your mother promised me nothing but common civility should pass
between you and that young gentleman."

"She promised for me, but she could not promise for him--poor little
fellow!"

"Marry a son of the man who has robbed and insulted your father!"

"Oh, papa! is it so? Are you sure you did not begin?"

"If you can think that, it is useless to say more. I thought
ill-fortune had done its worst; but no; blow upon blow, and wound upon
wound. Don't spare me, child. Nobody else has, and why should you?
Marry my enemy's son, his younger son, and break your father's heart."

At this, what could a sensitive girl of sixteen do but burst out
crying, and promise, round her father's neck, never to marry any one
whom he disliked.

When she had made this promise, her father fondled and petted her, and
his tenderness consoled her, for she was not passionately in love with
her cousin.

Yet she cried a good deal over the letter in which she communicated
this to Compton.

He lay in wait for her; but she baffled him for three weeks.

After that she relaxed her vigilance, for she had no real wish to avoid
him, and was curious to see whether she had cured him.

He met her; and his conduct took her by surprise. He was pale, and
looked very wretched.

He said solemnly, "Were you jesting with me when you promised to marry
no one but me?"

"No, Compton. But you know I could never marry you without papa's
consent."

"Of course not; but, what I fear, he might wish you to marry somebody
else."

"Then I should refuse. I will never break my word to you, cousin. I am
not in love with you, you are too young for that--but somehow I feel I
could not make you unhappy. Can't you trust my word? You might. I come
of the same people as you. Why do you look so pale?--we are very
unhappy."

Then the tears began to steal down her cheeks; and Compton's soon
followed.

Compton consulted his mother. She told him, with a sigh, she was
powerless. Sir Charles might yield to her, but she had no power to
influence Mr. Bassett at present. "The time may come," said she. She
could not take a very serious view of this amour, except with regar