“The fact is, Miriam, you are getting too much wound up with that Stanbury family, and you would be perfectly entangled there in another year.  The idea of putting the whole hardship of George Gaston’s education on your shoulders was worthy of diplomatic brains, and something I should scarcely have suspected that calm, quiet little woman to have been capable of conceiving.  There is an old, worn-out plantation in the Gaston family, that your money would set going again, no doubt, with accelerated velocity.  Did you never suspect anything of that sort?” he asked, carelessly.

“Never; nor did I suppose any one else was stupid or wicked enough to entertain such an idea.  I, being tolerably acute, knew better, fortunately.”

“My dear little girl, you are entirely too chivalrous and confiding where your feelings are engaged.  What if I were to assure that this plan had been agitated?”

“I should think you had been deceived, or that you were deceiving me, one or the other.  I should not believe you, that would be all.  You understand me now, Mr. Bainrothe; there are no purer people than the Stanburys—­I wish every one was half as good and true.”

“Old Gerald at the head of them, I suppose?” with a sneer and a kaleidoscopic glance.

“Mr. Gerald Stanbury at the head of them,” I reiterated firmly, adding:  “These are friends of mine, Mr. Bainrothe; it hurts and offends me to hear them lightly discussed.  If I am sent away from home to break off my affection for them, the measure is a vain one, for I shall returned unchanged.”

“Yes, but with enlarged views, I trust, Miriam,” he rejoined, pertinaciously.  “See how Evelyn was improved by her two years at school; besides, how would you ever increase your circle of acquaintances here, studying alone, or even with your shy disposition, at a day-school?”

“I am sent from home, then, to make acquaintances it seems, and to prepare for my debut into society?  Very well, I shall not forget that; but pray, what particular advantage in this respect does a country-school present?”

“Oh, the very first people send their daughters to St. Mark’s.  If I were training a wife for my son, I should educate her there.  What higher eulogium could I bestow, or”—­dropping his voice—­“what higher compliment pay you, Miriam?”

“If he were a king’s son, you could not speak more confidently,” I rejoined, with inexcusable rudeness.  “Remember, too, you are not training a wife for your prince in disguise.”  But I was annoyed and irritated by his patronizing manner, and the suspicion that took possession of me from that time, that he had aided Evelyn in this conspiracy against my peace for selfish views.

He laughed carelessly and turned away, but I saw triumph in his variegated eye; yet was I powerless to resent it.

“I am leaving my poor papa bound hand and foot,” I thought, “in designing hands, but I cannot help it.  He has chosen for himself, I will not entreat his affection, his confidence, misplaced as they surely are.  I cannot do this if I would; something stronger than myself binds me to silence.  But O papa, papa! if you only knew how I loved you, you would not suffer these strangers to take my place, or banish your poor Miriam so cruelly!”