ht, sir? what would mamma have said? Besides, you were not very
entertaining, Master Frank; you were very cross, sir; you know you
were!"

"But you forgive me now, Min, don't you?" I implored.

"Yes," she said, "if you promise never to be cross with me again."

"What, cross with _you_?" I exclaimed.

"You were, though, last night," she said, with a little toss of her
well-shaped head.

I thought the time had now arrived for making my little peace-offering;
and yet, I felt as shy and nervous about it as did poor "Young John,"
the gaoler's son of the Marshalsea, when he went to call on Little
Dorrit's father in the grand Bond Street hotel, and drew his humble
present of a bundle of cigars from his coat-pocket.

"Min," I said, "you have heard me speak of a clever little bird I had--
Dicky Chips?"

"Oh, yes," she said. "You mean the nice little fellow you taught to do
so many funny things? Nothing has happened to him, I hope, Frank? I
should be so very sorry," she added, sympathisingly, "for I know you are
very fond of him."

"No," said I hesitatingly; "nothing has happened to him, exactly; that
is, Min, I have brought him over for you; and, unless you accept him, I
shall think you are still angry with me, and have not forgiven me."

I thereupon pulled the little chap, cage and all, out of my pocket, and
presented him to her.

"Oh, Frank!" she exclaimed, in her sweet, earnest accents, with a ring
of emotion in them. "He's such a little pet of yours; and you have had
him so long! I would not take him from you for the world!"

"Then," said I, just as earnestly, "you have not forgiven me. Oh, Min!
when you promised to do so!" And I took up my hat as if to go away.

We argued the point; but, the end of the matter was, that Dicky Chips
was made over to his new mistress, with all his goods, chattels, and
appurtenances. A happy bird he might consider himself henceforth, I
knew. He would be idolised--a very nice situation, indeed, for a
bullfinch!

By-and-by I got closer to Min, as we were standing up, talking together
and making Dicky go through a few of his tricks on the drawing-room
table.

"Min," said I, softly, bending over her and looking down into her
honest, truth-telling grey eyes--"my darling!"

But, at that precise moment, the door opened; and, in walked Mrs Clyde.

CHAPTER NINE.

BREAKERS AHEAD!

Oh, I see thee, old and formal, fitted to thy petty part,
With a little hoard of