n Rosa herself came
flying out in great agitation.

Oh! the thrill he felt at the sight of her! With all his
self-possession, he would have sprung forward and taken her in his arms
with a mighty cry of love, if she had not immediately spoken words that
rooted him to the spot with horror. But she came with the words in her
very mouth; "Papa, I am come to tell you I cannot, and will not, marry
Mr. Falcon."

"Oh, yes, you will, my dear."

"Never! I'll die sooner. Not that you will care for that. I tell you
I saw my Christopher last night--in a dream. He had a beard; but I saw
him, oh, so plain; and he said, 'Is this the way you keep your promise?'
That is enough for me. I have prayed, again and again, to his star,
for light. I am so perplexed and harassed by you all, and you make me
believe what you like. Well, I have had a revelation. It is not my poor
lost darling's wish I should wed again. I don't believe Mr. Falcon any
more. I hear nothing but lies by day. The truth comes to my bedside at
night. I will not marry this man."

"Consider, Rosa, your credit is pledged. You must not be always jilting
him heartlessly. Dreams! nonsense. There--I love peace. It is no use
your storming at me; rave to the moon and the stars, if you like, and
when you have done, do pray come in, and behave like a rational woman,
who has pledged her faith to an honorable man, and a man of vast
estates--a man that nursed your husband in his last illness, found your
child, at a great expense, when you had lost him, and merits eternal
gratitude, not eternal jilting. I have no patience with you."

The old gentleman retired in high dudgeon.

Staines stood in the black shade of his cedar-tree, rooted to the ground
by this revelation of male villany and female credulity.

He did not know what on earth to do. He wanted to kill Falcon, but not
to terrify his own wife to death. It was now too clear she thought he
was dead.

Rosa watched her father's retiring figure out of sight. "Very well,"
said she, clenching her teeth; then suddenly she turned, and looked up
to heaven. "Do you hear?" said she, "my Christie's star? I am a poor
perplexed creature. I asked you for a sign, and that very night I saw
him in a dream. Why should I marry out of gratitude? Why should I marry
one man, when I love another? What does it matter his being dead? I love
him too well to be wife to any living man. They persuade me, they coax
me, they pull me, they push me. I see t