mustaches, with sparkling,
angry eyes, and every feature of his face well cut and finely formed;
but there was absent from him all look of contentment or satisfaction.
Harry was light-haired, with long, silken beard, and bright eyes; but
there was usually present to his face a look of infinite joy, which was
comfortable to all beholders. If not strong, as was the other man's, it
was happy and eloquent of good temper. But in one thing they were
alike:--neither of them counted aught on his good looks. Mountjoy had
attempted to domineer by his bad temper, and had failed; but Harry,
without any attempt at domineering, always doubting of himself till he
had been assured of success by her lips, had succeeded. Now he was very
proud of his success; but he was proud of her, and not of himself.

"You come in here and boast of what you have done in my presence," said
Mountjoy Scarborough.

"How can I not seem to boast when she tells me that she loves me?" said
Harry.

"For God's sake, do not quarrel here!" said Mrs. Mountjoy.

"They shall not quarrel at all," said Florence, "There is no cause for
quarrelling. When a girl has given herself away there should be an end
of it. No man who knows that she has done so should speak to her again
in the way of love. I will leave you now; but, Harry, you must come
again, in order that I may tell you that you must not have it all your
own way, just as you please, sir." Then she gave him her hand, and
passing on at once to Mountjoy, tendered her hand to him also. "You are
my cousin, and the head now of my mother's family. I would fain know
that you would say a kind word to me, and bid me 'God speed.'"

He looked at her, but did not take her hand. "I cannot do it," he said.
"I cannot bid you 'God speed.' You have ruined me, trampled upon me,
destroyed me. I am not angry with him," and he pointed across the room
to Harry Annesley; "nor with you; but only with myself." Then, without
speaking a word to his aunt, he marched out of the room and left the
house, closing the front-door after him with a loud noise, which
testified to his anger.

"He has gone!" said Mrs. Mountjoy, with a tone of deep tragedy.

"It is better so," said Florence.

"A man must take his chance in such warfare as this," said Harry. "There
is something about Mountjoy Scarborough that, after all, I like. I do
not love Augustus, but, with certain faults, Mountjoy is a good fellow."

"He is the head of our family," said