“Last month’s experience has taught me what I have to expect,” remarked Leonard, with a smile.  “My mind is made up, I will stay with you.”

“I am glad of it,” returned Bloundel, “and now I have something further to say to you.  My wife has acquainted me with the daring attempt of the Earl of Rochester to carry off Amabel.”

“Has my mistress, also, told you of my attachment to your daughter?” demanded Leonard, trembling, in spite of his efforts to maintain a show of calmness.

Bloundel nodded an affirmative.

“And of Amabel’s promise to bestow her hand upon me, if I claimed it at the month’s end?” continued the apprentice.

“No!” replied the grocer, a good deal surprised—­“I heard of no such promise.  Nor was I aware the matter had gone so far.  But have you claimed it?”

“I have,” replied Leonard; “but she declined giving an answer till to-day.”

“We will have it, then, at once,” cried Bloundel “Come with me to her.”

So saying, he led the way to the inner room, where they found Amabel and her mother.  At the sight of Leonard, the former instantly cast down her eyes.

“Amabel,” said her father, in a tone of greater severity than he had ever before used towards her, “all that has passed is known to me.  I shall take another and more fitting opportunity to speak to you on your ill-advised conduct.  I am come for a different purpose.  You have given Leonard Holt a promise (I need not tell you of what nature), and he claims its fulfilment.”

“If he insists upon my compliance,” replied Amabel, in a tremulous voice, “I must obey.  But it will make me wretched.”

“Then I at once release you,” replied Leonard.  “I value your happiness far more than my own.”

“You deserve better treatment, Leonard,” said Bloundel; “and I am sorry my daughter cannot discern what is for her good.  Let us hope that time will work a change in your favour.”

“No,” replied the apprentice, bitterly; “I will no longer delude myself with any such vain expectation.”

“Amabel,” observed the grocer, “as your father—­as your wellwisher—­I should desire to see you wedded to Leonard.  But I have told your mother, and now tell you, that I will not control your inclinations, and will only attempt to direct you so far as I think likely to be conducive to your happiness.  On another point, I must assume a very different tone.  You can no longer plead ignorance of the designs of the depraved person who besets you.  You may not be able to forget him—­but you can avoid him.  If you see him alone again—­if but for a moment—­I cast you off for ever.  Yes, for ever,” he repeated, with stern emphasis.

“I will never voluntarily see him again,” replied Amabel, tremblingly.

“You have heard my determination,” rejoined her father.  “Do you still adhere to your resolution of remaining with me, Leonard?” he added, turning to the apprentice.  “If what has just passed makes any alteration in your wishes, state so, frankly.”