ngly. "Are you angry with me,
Rose?"

She held out to me her hand. On that, my heart seething with audacity,
my head on fire, I cried:--

"Rose--I swear it! I will be your husband!" And as she shook her head
and looked at me sadly, I added: "Oh! I well know that my uncle is
self-willed, but I will be more self-willed still; and, since he must be
forced to say 'yes,' I will force him to say it!"

"But how?" asked Rose.

Ah! how? That was exactly the difficulty. But, no matter; I would find a
way to surmount it!

At that moment a heavy step resounded in the street. Instinctively we
moved away from each other; I returned to my double-handed sword, and
Rose, to keep herself in countenance, set to dusting, with a corner of
her apron, a little statuette in its faded red velvet case.

My uncle entered. Surprised at finding us together, he stopped short and
looked sharply at us, from one to the other.

We each of us went on rubbing without raising our heads.

"Here, take this," said my uncle, handing me a bulky parcel from under
his arm. "A splendid purchase, you'll see."

The subject did not interest me in the least.

I opened the parcel, and from the enveloping paper emerged a steel
helmet--but not an ordinary helmet, oh, no!--a superb, a monumental
morion, with gorget and pointed visor of strange form. The visor was
raised, and I tried to discover what prevented it from being lowered.

"It will not go down--the hinges have got out of order," said my uncle;
"but it's a superb piece, and, when it has been thoroughly cleaned and
touched up, will look well--that shall be your to-morrow's job."

"Very good, uncle," I murmured, not daring to raise my eyes to his.

That night, on reaching my room, I at once went to bed. I was eager to
be alone and able to think at my ease. Night brings counsel, it is said;
and I had great need that the proverb should prove true. But, after
lying awake for an hour without receiving any assistance, I fell off to
sleep, and, till next morning, did nothing but dream the oddest dreams.
I saw Rose on her way to church in a strange bridal costume, a
14th-century cap, three feet high, on her head, but looking prettier
than ever; then suddenly the scene changed to moonlight, in which
innumerable helmets and pieces of old china were dancing a wild
farandola, while my uncle, clad in complete armour and with a formidable
halberd in his hand, conducted the bewildering whirl.

[Illustration: "MY