hat I do esteem you; but that has
no effect in touching my heart, therefore I cannot become your wife."

Now, as Mr. Barry thought, had come the time in which he must assert
himself. "Miss Grey," he said, "you have probably a long life before
you."

"Long or short, it can make no difference."

"If I understood you aright, you are one who lives very much to
yourself."

"To myself and my father."

"He is growing in years."

"So am I, for the matter of that. We are all growing in years."

"Have you looked out for yourself, and thought what manner of home yours
will be when he shall have been dead and buried?" He paused, but she
remained silent, and assumed a special cast of countenance, as though
she might say a word, if he pressed her, which it would be disagreeable
for him to hear. "When he has gone will you not be very solitary without
a husband?"

"No doubt I shall."

"Had you not better accept one when one comes your way who is not, as he
tells you, quite unworthy of you?"

"In spite of such worth solitude would be preferable."

"You certainly have a knack, Miss Grey, of making the most unpalatable
assertions."

"I will make another more unpalatable. Solitude I could bear,--and
death,--but not such a marriage. You force me to tell you the whole truth
because half a truth will not suffice."

"I have endeavored to be at any rate civil to you," he said.

"And I have endeavored to save you what trouble I could by being
straightforward." Still he paused, sitting in his chair uneasily, but
looking as though he had no intention of going. "If you will only take
me at my word and have done with it!" Still he did not move. "I suppose
there are young ladies who like this kind of thing, but I have become
old enough to hate it. I have had very little experience of it, but it
is odious to me. I can conceive nothing more disagreeable than to have
to sit still and hear a gentleman declare that he wants to make me his
wife, when I am quite sure that I do not intend to make him my husband."

"Then, Miss Grey," he said, rising from his chair suddenly, "I shall bid
you adieu."

"Good-bye, Mr. Barry."

"Good-bye, Miss Grey. Farewell!" And so he went.

"Oh, papa, we have had such a scene!" she said, the moment she felt
herself alone with her father.

"You have not accepted him?"

"Accepted him! Oh dear no! I am sure at this moment he is only thinking
how he would cut my throat if he could get hold of me."

"You