ou have
accepted Lionel Varleigh's invitation to visit him," he said, "under
pretense of seeing his curiosities. Think again before you decide on
keeping that engagement. If you go to Varleigh tomorrow, you will repent
it to the last day of your life." Saying those words, in a tone which
made me tremble in spite of myself, he walked to the door. As he laid
his hand on the lock, he turned toward me for the last time. "I forbid
you to go to Varleigh's lodgings," he said, very distinctly and quietly.
"Understand what I tell you. I forbid it."

With those words he left us.

My aunt sat down by me and took my hand kindly. "There is only one
thing to be done," she said; "we must return at once to Nettlegrove.
If Captain Stanwick attempts to annoy you in your own house, we have
neighbors who will protect us, and we have Mr. Loring, our rector, to
appeal to for advice. As for Mr. Varleigh, I will write our excuses
myself before we go away."

She put out her hand to ring the bell and order the carriage. I stopped
her. My childish pride urged me to assert myself in some way, after the
passive position that I had been forced to occupy during the interview
with Captain Stanwick.

"No," I said, "it is not acting fairly toward Mr. Varleigh to break our
engagement with him. Let us return to Nettlegrove by all means, but
let us first call on Mr. Varleigh and take our leave. Are we to
behave rudely to a gentleman who has always treated us with the utmost
consideration, because Captain Stanwick has tried to frighten us by
cowardly threats? The commonest feeling of self-respect forbids it."

My aunt protested against this outbreak of folly with perfect temper
and good sense. But my obstinacy (my firmness as I thought it!) was
immovable. I left her to choose between going with me to Mr. Varleigh,
or letting me go to him by myself. Finding it useless to resist, she
decided, it is needless to say, on going with me.

We found Mr. Varleigh very courteous, but more than usually grave
and quiet. Our visit only lasted for a few minutes; my aunt using the
influence of her age and her position to shorten it. She mentioned
family affairs as the motive which recalled us to Nettlegrove. I took it
on myself to invite Mr. Varleigh to visit me at my own house. He bowed
and thanked me, without engaging himself to accept the invitation. When
I offered him my hand at parting, he raised it to his lips, and kissed
it with a fervor that agitated me. His