came into my eyes, which she,
taking up the candle, saw. "I am going to play," she said hurriedly,
"come." She ran down before me, but turning, by the foot of the
stairs, she pointed to the parlor door, and said, "Is he my husband?"

"Answer for yourself. Go in, in God's name."

Ben was chatting with father over the fire; he stretched out his hand
to her, with so firm and assured an air, and looked so noble, that I
felt a pang of admiration for him. She laid her hand in his a moment,
passed on to the piano, and began to play divinely, drawing him to
her side. Father peeled and twisted his cigar, as he contemplated them
with a thoughtful countenance.

CHAPTER XXVII.

When we went to Boston we went to a new hotel, as Ben had advised,
deserting the old Bromfield for the Tremont. It was dusk when we
arrived, and tea was served immediately, in a large room full of
somber mahogany furniture. Its atmosphere oppressed Veronica, who ate
her supper in silence.

"Charles Dickens is here, sir," said the waiter, who knew Ben. "Two
models of the Curiosity Shop have just gone upstairs, sir. His room is
right over here, sir."

Veronica looked adoringly at the ceiling.

"Then," said Ben, "our hunters are up from Belem. Anybody in from
Belem, John?"

"Oh yes, sir, every day."

"I'll look them up," he said to us; but he returned soon, and begged
us not to look at Dickens, if we had a chance.

Veronica, with a sigh, gave him up, and lost a chance of being
immortalized with that perpetual and imperturbable beefsteak, covered
with "the blackest of all possible pepper," which was daily served to
him.

Father being out in pursuit of a cigar, Ben asked Veronica what she
would do while he was in Belem.

"Walk round this lion-clawed table."

"I shall be gone from you."

"Alas!"

"Are we to part this way?"

"Father," she cried, as he entered with a theater bill, "had I better
marry this friend of Cassy's?"

"Have you the courage? Do you know each other?"

"Having known Cassandra so long, sir," began Ben, but was interrupted
by Veronica's exclaiming, "We do not know each other at all. What is
the use of making _that_ futile attempt? I am over eighteen, and do
you know me, father?"

"If I do not, it is because you have no shadow."

"Shall I, then?" giving Ben a delicious smile. "I promise."

"I promise, too, Veronica," heaven dawning in his eyes.

"We will see about it," said father. "Now who will go to th