am not an Orientalist; and my studies
take a widely different direction from yours."

"Yes, of course," said Susanna, with a sigh. "But I assure you I often
wish for your advice, particularly as to my elocution, which is very
faulty. You are such a master of the art."

The clergyman bowed in acceptance of the compliment, and began to take
heart; for to receive flattery from ladies in exchange for severe
reproof was part of his daily experience.

"I have come here," he said, "to have a very serious conversation with
you."

"All right, Doctor. Fire away."

This sudden whim of conferring on him a degree in divinity, and her
change of manner--implying that she had been laughing at him
before--irritated him. "I presume," he said, "that you are acquainted
with the movements of your brother."

"Of Ned?" said Susanna, frowning a little. "No. What should I know about
him?"

"He is, I believe, about to be married."

"No!" screamed Susanna, throwing herself back, and making her bangles
and ornaments clatter. "Get out, Doctor. You dont mean it."

"Certainly I mean it. It is not my profession to jest. I must also tell
you that his marriage will make it quite impossible for you to continue
here with my cousin."

"Why? Who is he going to marry?"

"Ahem! He has succeeded in engaging the affections of my sister."

"What! Your sister? Marian Lind?"

"Yes."

Susanna uttered a long whistle, and then, with a conviction and
simplicity which prevented even the Rev. George from being shocked,
said: "Well, I _am_ damned! I know more than one fool of a girl who will
be sick and sorry to hear it." She paused, and added carelessly: "I
suppose all your people are delighted?"

"I do not know why you should suppose so. We have had no hand in the
matter. My sister has followed her own inclinations."

"Indeed! Let me tell you, young man, that your sister might have gone
farther and fared worse."

"Doubtless. However, you will see now how impossible it is that you
should remain in your present--that you should continue here, in fact."

"What do you mean?"

"You cannot," said the clergyman, accustomed to be bold and stern with
female sinners, "when you are sister-in-law to Miss Lind, live as you
are now doing with her cousin."

"Why not?"

"Because it would be a scandal. I will say nothing at present of the sin
of it: you will have to account for that before a greater than I."

"Just so, Doctor. You dont mind the sin; but w