y at a loss as to her meaning.

"You don't understand," says she. "A father's authority over his
daughter ceases one day."

"Ay, no doubt," says Phil; "when she becomes of legal age. But even
then, without her father's consent--"

"Why, now," she interrupted, "suppose her father's authority over her
passed to somebody else; somebody of her father's own preference;
somebody that her father already knew was going to England: could her
father forbid his taking her?"

"But, 'tis impossible," replied mystified Phil. "To whom in the world
would your father pass his authority over you? He is hale and hearty;
there's not the least occasion for a guardian."

"Why, fathers _do_, you know."

"Upon my soul, I don't see--"

"I vow you don't! You are the blindest fellow! Didn't Polly
Livingstone's father give up his authority over her the other day--to
Mr. Ludlow?"

"Certainly, to her husband."

"Well!"

"Margaret--do you mean--? But you can't mean _that_?" Phil had not the
voice to say more, emerging so suddenly from the clouds of puzzlement
to the yet uncertain sunshine of joy.

"Why shouldn't I mean that?" says she, with the prettiest laugh, which
made her bold behaviour seem the most natural, feminine act
imaginable. "Am I not good enough for you?"

"Madge! You're not joking, are you?" He caught her hands, and gazed
with still dubious rapture at her across the fence.

My sensations may easily be imagined. But by the time she had assured
him she was perfectly in earnest, I had taught myself to act the man;
and so I said, playfully:

"Such a contract, though 'tis made before witnesses, surely ought to
be sealed."

Philip took my hint; and he and Margaret laughed, and stretched arms
across the paling tops; and I lost sight of their faces. I sought
refuge in turning to Fanny, who was nearer to me than they were. To my
surprise, she was watching me with the most kindly, pitying face in
the world. Who would have thought she had known my heart regarding her
sister?

"Poor Bert!" she murmured gently, scarce for my hearing.

And I, who had felt very solitary the moment before, now seemed not
quite so lonely; and I continued to look into the soft, compassionate
eyes of Fanny, so steadily that in a moment, with the sweetest of
blushes, she lowered them to the roses in her hand.

CHAPTER V.

_We Hear Startling News, Which Brings about a Family "Scene"._

I have characterised Margaret's behaviour in the mat