e gentleman. "Mrs. Maurice and I
talked it over as soon as we saw which way the wind lay; but of course we
decided to say nothing till we were sure, quite sure, that it was Frarnie
and not her prospects--"

"Oh, sir, you--"

"Tush, tush! I know all about it now. But it becomes a father to be wary,"
continued the other, taking the words from Andrew's lips in spite of
himself, and quite wary enough not to mention that in Frarnie's
easily-excited favor a young scapegrace was very likely to supplant Mr.
Andrew if things were not brought to a point at once. "It was my duty to
look at all sides," he said, without stopping for breath. "Now I know you,
and I see you'd rather give the girl the go-by for ever than have her
think you wanted her because she was her father's daughter, and not some
poor fisherman's."

"Indeed, indeed--" began Andrew again, leaning forward, his cheeks
crimson, his very hands shaking.

"Of course, my boy," interrupted his companion as before--"of course.
Don't say a word: you're welcome to her at last. I never thought I'd
surrender her to any one so freely; but if I were choosing from all the
world, Andrew, I don't know any one I'd choose sooner for my son. She's a
sensible girl, my Frarnie is, at bottom. We know her heart: it's a good
heart--only the froth of all young girls' fancies to be blown off. And the
Sabrina always was a pet of mine, and, though I've said nothing of it,
I've meant her for Frarnie's husband this many a day." And before Andrew,
in his flurry and embarrassment and bewilderment, could enunciate any
distinct denial of anything or avowal of anything else, the chaise was at
the door, and Mrs. Maurice was waiting for him with extended hands, and
Frarnie was standing and smiling behind, half turned to run away. And Mr.
Maurice cried out: "Captain Traverse of the Sabrina, my dear! Here,
Frarnie, Frarnie! none of your airs and graces! Come and give your
sweetheart an honest kiss!" And Andrew, doubting if the minister were not
behind the door and he should not find himself married out of hand,
irresolute, cowardly, too weak to give up the Sabrina and that sweet new
title just ringing in his ears, was pushed along by Mr. Maurice's foolish,
hearty hand till he found himself bending over Frarnie with his arm around
her waist, his lips upon her cheek, and without, as it seemed to him,
either choice or volition on his part. But as he looked up and saw the
portraits of the girl's grandfathe