“I certainly did, Sir Peter, and am sorry to say that, in defiance of my entreaties and commands, he has deserted his’ home, and, in consequence, I have discarded him for ever.”

“Now, Denbigh,” said the admiral, a good deal mollified by this declaration, “have I not always told you, that in the army you know nothing of discipline?  Why, sir, if he was a son of mine, he should marry blindfolded, if I chose to order it.  I wish, now, Bell had an offer, and dared to refuse it.”

“There is the barber’s clerk, you know,” said the general, a good deal irritated by the contemptuous manner of his friend.

“And what of that, Sir Frederick?” said the sailor sternly; “if I choose her to marry a quill-driver, she shall comply.”

“Ah! my good friend,” said the general, willing to drop the disagreeable subject, “I am afraid we shall both find it more difficult to control the affections of our children than we at first imagined.”

“You do, General Denbigh?” said the admiral, with a curl of contempt on his lip; and ringing the bell violently, he bid the servant send his young lady to him.

On the appearance of Isabel, her father inquired with an air of settled meaning where young Mr. Ives resided.  It was only in the next street, and a messenger was sent to him, with Sir Peter Howell’s compliments, and a request to see him without a moment’s delay.

“We’ll see, we’ll see, my old friend, who keeps the best discipline,” muttered the admiral, as he paced up and down the room, in eager expectation of the return of his messenger.

The wondering general gazed on his friend, to ascertain if he was out of his senses.  He knew he was quick to decide, and excessively obstinate, but he did not think him so crazy as to throw away his daughter in a fit of spleen.  It never occurred to Sir Frederick, however, that the engagement with himself was an act of equal injustice and folly, because it was done with more form and deliberation, which, to the eye of sober reason, would rather make the matter worse.  Isabel sat in trembling suspense for the issue of the scene, and Ives in a few minutes made his appearance in no little alarm.

On entering, the admiral addressed him abruptly, by inquiring if he still wished to marry that girl, pointing to his daughter.  The reply was an eager affirmative.  Sir Peter beckoned to Isabel, who approached, covered with blushes; and her father having placed her hand in that of her lover, with an air of great solemnity he gave them his blessing.  The young people withdrew to another room at Sir Peter’s request, when he turned to his friend, delighted with his own decision and authority, and exclaimed,

“There, Fred. Denbigh, that is what I call being minded.”

The general had penetration enough to see that the result was agreeable to both the young people, a thing he had long apprehended; and being glad to get rid of the affair in any way that did not involve him in a quarrel with his old comrade, he gravely congratulated the admiral on his good fortune and retired.