lf, Mr. Lind. I regret that you
were not in a position this morning to warn me of your daughter's
notable secret."

"If it is a secret, and you are a gentleman, you will hold your
tongue," interposed Elinor, sharply.

"Papa," said Marian: "I became engaged yesterday to Mr. Conolly. I told
Mr. Douglas this in order to save him from making me a proposal. That is
the reason he has forgotten himself. I had not intended to tell you so
suddenly; but this misunderstanding has forced me to."

"Engaged to Mr. Conolly!" cried Mr. Lind. "I begin to fear
that----Enga----" He took breath, and continued, to Marian: "I forbid
you to entertain any such engagement. Sholto: there is evidently nothing
to be gained by discussing this matter in hot blood. It is some girlish
absurdity--some--some--some--"

"I apologize for having doubted the truth of the excuse," said Douglas;
"but I see that I have failed to gauge Miss Lind's peculiar taste. I beg
you to understand, Mr. Lind, that my pretensions are at an end. I do not
aspire to the position of Mr. Conolly's rival."

"You are already in the position of Mr. Conolly's unsuccessful rival;
and you fill it with a very bad grace," said Elinor.

"Pray be silent, Elinor," said Mr. Lind. "This matter does not concern
you. Marian: go to your room for the present. I shall speak to you
afterwards."

Marian flushed, and repressed a sob. "I wish I were under _his_
protection now," she said, looking reproachfully at Douglas as she
crossed the room.

"What can you expect from a father but hostility?" said Elinor,
bitterly. "You are a coward, like all your sex," she added, turning to
Douglas. Then she suddenly opened the door, and passed out through it
with Marian, whilst the housemaids fled upstairs, the footman shrank
into a corner of the landing, and the page hastily dragged the cook
down to the kitchen.

The two men, left together in the drawing-room, were for some moments
quite at a loss. Then Mr. Lind, after a preliminary cough or two, said:
"Sholto: I cannot describe to you how shocked I am by what I have just
heard. I am deeply disappointed in Marian. I trusted her implicitly; but
of course I now see that I have been wrong in allowing her so much
liberty. Evidently a great deal has been going on of which I had not any
suspicion."

Douglas said nothing. His resentment was unabated; but his rage,
naturally peevish and thin in quality, was subsiding, though it surged
back on him at interv