"No. He, like Tom, will be seeking a wife some day; perhaps sooner
than Tom; perhaps very soon indeed; perhaps this very minute."

"Oh, Bert!--What nonsense! Don't look at me so, here in the
street--people will take notice."

"What do I care for people? Let the fellows all see, and envy me, if
you'll give me what I ask. What say you, dearest? Speak; tell me! Nay,
if you won't, I'll make you blush all the more--I love you, I love
you, I love you! Now will you speak?"

"Oh, Bert, dear, at least wait till we are home!"

"If you'll promise to say yes then."

"Very well--if 'twill please you."

"Nay, it must be to please yourself too. You do love me a little,
don't you?"

"Why, of course I do; and you must have known it all the time!"

But, alas, her father's "yes" was not so easily to be won. I broached
the matter to him that very evening (Fanny and I meanwhile having come
to a fuller understanding in the seclusion of the garden); but he
shook his head, and regarded me coldly.

"No, sir," said he. "For, however much you are to be esteemed as a
young gentleman of honour and candour and fine promise, 'tis for me to
consider you rather as an adherent of a government that has persecuted
my country, and now makes war upon it. The day may come when you will
find a more congenial home nearer the crown you have already expressed
your desire to fight for. And then, if Fanny were your wife, you would
carry her off to make an Englishwoman of her, as my first daughter
would have been carried by her husband, upon different motives, but
for this war. Perhaps 'twere better she could have gone," he added,
with a sigh, for Margaret had been his favourite child; "my loss of
her could scarce have been more complete than it is. But 'tis not so
with Fanny."

"But, sir, I am not to take it that you refuse me, definitely,
finally?--I beg--"

"Nay, sir, I only say that we must wait. Let us see what time shall
bring to pass. I believe that you will not--and I am sure that Fanny
will not--endeavour any act without my consent, or against my wish.
Nay, I don't bid you despair, neither. Time shall determine."

I was not so confident that I would not endeavour any act without his
consent; but I shared his certainty that Fanny would not. And so, in
despondency, I took the news to her.

"Well," says she, with a sigh. "We must wait, that's all."

While we were waiting, and during the Fall and Winter, we heard now
and then from Philip, fo