ith a glorious thrill--"that
as yet you have not made any protestation to my daughter?"

"Not in words, sir." The arriere pensee of my phrase struck me, not by
its own humour, but through the grave, kindly smile on the father's
face. There was a pleasant sarcasm in his comment:

"Not in words! That is dangerous! She might have doubted words, or
even disbelieved them."

I felt myself blushing to the roots of my hair as I went on:

"The duty of delicacy in her defenceless position; my respect for her
father--I did not know you then, sir, as yourself, but only as her
father--restrained me. But even had not these barriers existed, I
should not have dared in the presence of such grief and anxiety to have
declared myself. Mr. Trelawny, I assure you on my word of honour that
your daughter and I are as yet, on her part, but friends and nothing
more!" Once again he held out his hands, and we clasped each other
warmly. Then he said heartily:

"I am satisfied, Malcolm Ross. Of course, I take it that until I have
seen her and have given you permission, you will not make any
declaration to my daughter--in words," he added, with an indulgent
smile. But his face became stern again as he went on:

"Time presses; and I have to think of some matters so urgent and so
strange that I dare not lose an hour. Otherwise I should not have been
prepared to enter, at so short a notice and to so new a friend, on the
subject of my daughter's settlement in life, and of her future
happiness." There was a dignity and a certain proudness in his manner
which impressed me much.

"I shall respect your wishes, sir!" I said as I went back and opened
the door. I heard him lock it behind me.

When I told Mr. Corbeck that Mr. Trelawny had quite recovered, he began
to dance about like a wild man. But he suddenly stopped, and asked me
to be careful not to draw any inferences, at all events at first, when
in the future speaking of the finding of the lamps, or of the first
visits to the tomb. This was in case Mr. Trelawny should speak to me
on the subject; "as, of course, he will," he added, with a sidelong
look at me which meant knowledge of the affairs of my heart. I agreed
to this, feeling that it was quite right. I did not quite understand
why; but I knew that Mr. Trelawny was a peculiar man. In no case could
one make a mistake by being reticent. Reticence is a quality which a
strong man always respects.

The manner in which the othe