o call again?'

'Oh, not for a long time, not for three or four weeks; it is not
necessary, indeed; I can do without,' said the young lady, with great
eagerness.

'Why, how are we to do without?' urged her father, not speaking above
his breath. 'Three or four weeks, Madeline! Three or four weeks!'

'Then sooner, sooner, if you please,' said the young lady, turning to
Nicholas.

'Three or four weeks!' muttered the father. 'Madeline, what on earth--do
nothing for three or four weeks!'

'It is a long time, ma'am,' said Nicholas.

'YOU think so, do you?' retorted the father, angrily. 'If I chose to
beg, sir, and stoop to ask assistance from people I despise, three or
four months would not be a long time; three or four years would not be a
long time. Understand, sir, that is if I chose to be dependent; but as I
don't, you may call in a week.'

Nicholas bowed low to the young lady and retired, pondering upon Mr
Bray's ideas of independence, and devoutly hoping that there might
be few such independent spirits as he mingling with the baser clay of
humanity.

He heard a light footstep above him as he descended the stairs, and
looking round saw that the young lady was standing there, and glancing
timidly towards him, seemed to hesitate whether she should call him back
or no. The best way of settling the question was to turn back at once,
which Nicholas did.

'I don't know whether I do right in asking you, sir,' said Madeline,
hurriedly, 'but pray, pray, do not mention to my poor mother's dear
friends what has passed here today. He has suffered much, and is worse
this morning. I beg you, sir, as a boon, a favour to myself.'

'You have but to hint a wish,' returned Nicholas fervently, 'and I would
hazard my life to gratify it.'

'You speak hastily, sir.'

'Truly and sincerely,' rejoined Nicholas, his lips trembling as he
formed the words, 'if ever man spoke truly yet. I am not skilled in
disguising my feelings, and if I were, I could not hide my heart from
you. Dear madam, as I know your history, and feel as men and angels must
who hear and see such things, I do entreat you to believe that I would
die to serve you.'

The young lady turned away her head, and was plainly weeping.

'Forgive me,' said Nicholas, with respectful earnestness, 'if I seem to
say too much, or to presume upon the confidence which has been intrusted
to me. But I could not leave you as if my interest and sympathy expired
with the commission o