LL hate me now. He is gone to make money for ME; and I would
rather have lived on a crust. Uncle--don't hate me. I'm a poor,
bereaved, heart-broken creature, that repents."

"Repents! heigho! why, what have you been up to now, ma'am? No great
harm, I'll be bound. Flirting a little with some FOOL--eh?"

"Flirting! Me! a married woman."

"Oh, to be sure; I forgot. Why, surely he has not deserted you."

"My Christopher desert me! He loves me too well; far more than I
deserve; but not more than I will. Uncle Philip, I am too confused and
wretched to tell you all that has happened; but I know you love him,
though you had a tiff: uncle, he called on you, to shake hands and ask
your forgiveness, poor fellow! He was so sorry you were away. Please
read his dear diary: it will tell you all, better than his poor foolish
wife can. I know it by heart. I'll show you where you and he quarrelled
about me. There, see." And she showed him the passage with her finger.
"He never told me it was that, or I would have come and begged your
pardon on my knees. But see how sorry he was. There, see. And now I'll
show you another place, where my Christopher speaks of your many, many
acts of kindness. There, see. And now please let me show you how he
longed for reconciliation. There, see. And it is the same through
the book. And now I'll show you how grieved he was to go without your
blessing. I told him I was sure you would give him that, and him going
away. Ah, me! will he ever return? Uncle dear, don't hate me. What shall
I do, now he is gone, if you disown me? Why, you are the only Staines
left me to love."

"Disown you, ma'am! that I'll never do. You are a good-hearted
young woman, I find. There, run and dry your eyes; and let me read
Christopher's diary all through. Then I shall see how the land lies."

Rosa complied with his proposal; and left him alone while she bathed her
eyes, and tried to compose herself, for she was all trembling at this
sudden irruption.

When she returned to the drawing-room, he was walking about, looking
grave and thoughtful.

"It is the old story," said he, rather gently: "a MISUNDERSTANDING. How
wise our ancestors were that first used that word to mean a quarrel!
for, look into twenty quarrels, and you shall detect a score of
mis-under-standings. Yet our American cousins must go and substitute the
un-ideaed word 'difficulty'; that is wonderful. I had no quarrel with
him: delighted to see either of you. But