guy sight better than he!

"To begin with," he went on, "you look like one, for all the world."

This was sailing too close for my liking.

"Old gentleman," said I, "you are wearisomely dull. Possibly I had
better explain at length. To be frank, then, I had counted, in case
of failure, to avoid all scandal to your daughter's name. I had
hoped (you will excuse me) to have carried her off and evaded you
until I could present myself as her husband. If baffled in this, I
proposed to make my escape as a common burglar surprised upon your
premises. It seems to me," I wound up, including the three servants
with an indignant sweep of the arm, "that you might well have
emulated my delicacy! As it is, I must trouble you to recognise it."

"Heaven send," I added to myself, "that the real inamorato keeps his
bungling foot out of this till I get clear!" And I reflected with
much comfort that he was hardly likely to make an attempt upon
premises so brilliantly lit up.

"In justice to my daughter's taste," replied Sir Harry, "I am willing
to believe you looked something less like a jail-bird when she met
you in the Pump Room at Bath. You have fine clothes in your
portmanteau no doubt, and I sincerely trust they make all the
difference to your appearance. But a fine suit is no expensive
outfit for the capture of an heiress. You may be the commonest of
adventurers. How do I know, even, what right you have to the name
you carry?"

If he didn't, it was still more certain that I didn't. Indeed he
had a conspicuous advantage over me in knowing what that name was.
This very painful difficulty had hardly presented itself, however,
before the girl's wit smoothed it away. She spoke up,--looking as
innocent as an angel, too.

"Captain Fitzroy Pilkington could add no lustre to his name, father,
by giving it to me. His family is as good as our own, and his name
is one to be proud of."

"So it is, my dear," thought I, "if I can only remember it. So it's
Captain Fitzroy Pilkington I am--and from Bath. Decidedly I should
have taken some time in guessing it."

"I suppose, sir, I may take it for granted you have not brought your
credentials here to-night?" said the old boy, with a grim smile.

It was lucky he had not thought of searching my pockets for them.

"Scarcely, sir," I answered, smiling too and catching his mood; and
then thought I would play a bold card for freedom. "Come, come,
sir," I said; "I have tried to de