we are all ready enough to
say that no times are egual to our own times; but I shall strenuously
protest against your interpretation of the nature and artlessness of
an American girl."

"Artlessness!" repeated John Effingham, with a slight lifting of the
eye-brows; "we live in an age when new dictionaries and vocabularies
are necessary to understand each other's meaning. It is artlessness,
with a vengeance, to beset an old fellow of fifty, as one would
besiege a town. Hist!--Ned is retiring with his daughter, my dear
Mrs. Bloomfield, and it will not be long before I shall be summoned
to a family council. Well, we will keep the secret until it is
publicly proclaimed."

John Effingham was right, for his two cousins left the room together,
and retired to the library, but in a way to attract no particular
attention, except in those who were enlightened on the subject of
what had already passed that evening. When they were alone, Mr.
Effingham turned the key, and then he gave a free vent to his
paternal feelings.

Between Eve and her parent, there had always existed a confidence
exceeding that which it is common to find between father and
daughter. In one sense, they had been all in all to each other, and
Eve had never hesitated about pouring those feelings into his breast,
which, had she possessed another parent, would more naturally have
been confided to the affection of a mother. When their eyes first
met, therefore, they were mutually beaming with an expression of
confidence and love, such as might, in a measure, have been expected
between two of the gentler sex. Mr Effingham folded his child to his
heart, pressed her there tenderly for near a minute in silence, and
then kissing her burning cheek he permitted her to look up.

"This answers all my fondest hopes, Eve"--he exclaimed; "fulfils my
most cherished wishes for thy sake."

"Dearest sir!"

"Yes, my love, I have long secretly prayed that such might be your
good fortune; for, of all the youths we have met, at home or abroad,
Paul Powis is the one to whom I can consign you with the most
confidence that he will cherish and love you as you deserve to be
cherished and loved!"

"Dearest father, nothing but this was wanting to complete my perfect
happiness."

Mr. Effingham kissed his daughter again, and he was then enabled to
pursue the conversation with greater composure.

"Powis and I have had a full explanation," he said, "though in order
to obtain it, I