contrary, was terribly embarrassed.

"I confess," he replied with much hesitation, "that I do not understand,
that I cannot possibly explain to myself, why you do me the honor"--

"To consult you? Pardon me; I think you understand me perfectly well.
Have they not promised you Miss Ville-Handry's hand?"

"The count has permitted me to hope"--

"He has pledged his word, sir, under certain conditions. My dear count
has told me every thing. I speak, therefore, to Count Ville-Handry's
son-in-law, and I repeat, Do you see any objections to this match?"

The question was too precisely put to allow of any prevarication. And
still Daniel was bent upon gaining time, and avoiding any positive
answer. For the first time in his life he said a falsehood; and, turning
crimson all over, he stammered out,--

"I see no objection."

"Really?"

"Really."

She shook her head, and then said very slowly,--

"If that is so, you will not refuse me a great favor. Carried away by
her grief at seeing her father marry again, Miss Ville-Handry hates me.
Will you promise me to use your influence in trying to persuade her to
change her disposition towards me?"

Never had honest Daniel Champcey been tried so hard. He answered
diplomatically,--

"I am afraid you overestimate my influence."

She looked at him suddenly with such a sharp and penetrating glance that
he felt almost startled, and then said,--

"I do not ask of you to succeed, only promise me upon your honor that
you will do your best, and I shall be very much obliged to you. Will you
give me that promise?"

Could he do so? The situation was so exceptional, Daniel had at all
cost to lull the enemy into security for a time, and for a moment he was
inclined to pledge his honor. Nay, more than that, he made an effort to
do it. But his lips refused to utter a false oath.

"You see," resumed Miss Brandon very coldly, "you see you were deceiving
me."

And, turning away from him, she hid her face in her hands, apparently
overcome by grief, and repeated in a tone of deep sorrow,--

"What a disgrace! Great God! What a humiliation!"

But suddenly she started up again, her face bright with a glow of hope,
and cried out,--

"Well, be it so. I like it all the better so. A mean man would not have
hesitated at an oath, however determined he might have been not to keep
it. Whilst you--I can trust you; you are a man of honor, and all is not
lost yet. Whence comes your aversion? Is it