"You may like him if you please; but till I see him cleared I shall hate
him bitterly; and--and--and--I don't know how he ought to be punished.
He'll be punished enough, though, by losing my sweet sister. Why didn't
you like her, instead of some one else?" she said, archly.

"Don't ask me," said Pratt. "I'm so happy, I shall do something
foolish."

"You haven't anything to be happy about," said Fin; "for I'm going to
devote myself to Tiny, and if they force her into this hateful marriage,
I mean to be a nun."

"What marriage?" said Pratt.

"Why, with that Bluebeard of a captain."

"And are they pushing that on?"

"Yes," said Fin, "and it's abominable. It will kill her."

"No, it won't!" said Pratt, coolly.

"Then you're a wretch!" said Fin, with flashing eyes. "I say it will."

"And I say it won't," said Pratt; "because it must never come off."

Fin stared at him.

"I'll see to that," said Pratt, confidently. "I have a friend busy
about Master Captain Vanleigh. But, oh!" he exclaimed, as the
recollection of one Barnard, solicitor, brought up a gentleman of the
name of Mervyn--"but, oh! I say, tell me this, Fin--Mr Mervyn--you
know--there wasn't ever--anything--eh?"

"Oh, you goose!" cried Fin, stamping her foot. "Mr Mervyn--dear Mr
Mervyn, of all people in the world!--who used to treat us like as if we
were his little girls. Oh, Mr Pratt, I did think you had some sense in
your head."

"Oh no," said Pratt, solemnly; "never--not a morsel."

Then they looked at one another, and laughed; but only for Fin to turn
preternaturally serious.

"I must go back to Tiny now," she said.

"But when shall I see you again?" urged Pratt.

"Perhaps never," said Fin--"unless you can come about once a week, on a
Friday afternoon, here in the square, and tell me some news that will do
poor Tiny good."

"I may come and say good-bye to her, then?" said Pratt, getting hold for
a moment of the little half-withdrawn hand.

"Yes, if you like. No--here's Aunt Matty."

In fact her herald approached in the shape of Pepine, who no sooner
caught sight of the retreating form of Pratt, than he made a dash at
him, chasing him ignominiously to the gate, where he stood barking long
after his quarry had gone. But Pepine was no gainer in the end, for
during the next week Fin never neglected an opportunity of administering
to him a furtive thump.

Volume 3, Chapter XII.

NETTA'S APPEAL.

Richard felt very bitter as he