“Nothing, sir.”

“Why then do you hesitate?”

“Because other persons are involved.  Oh, Mr. Palma!  I am very unhappy.”

She clasped her hands, and bowed her chin upon them, a peculiar position into which sorrow always drove her.

“I inferred as much, from your manner while at the organ.  I am very sorry that my house is not a happy home for my ward.  Have you been subjected to any annoyances from the members of my household?”

“None whatever.  All are kind and considerate.  But I can never be satisfied till I see my mother.  I shall write tonight, imploring her permission to join her in Europe, and I beg that you will please use your influence in favour of my wishes.  Oh, sir, do help me to go to my mother!”

His smile froze, his face hardened; and he led her to a low sofa capable of seating only two persons, and drawn near the fire.

“Madame Orme does not want her daughter just yet”

“But I want my mother.  Oh, I must go!”

He took both her hands as they lay folded in her lap, opened the clenched fingers, clasping them softly in his own, so white and shapely, and his black eyes glittered: 

“Am I cruel and harsh to my Lily, that she is so anxious to run away from her guardian?”

“No, sir, oh no!  Kind and very good, consulting what you consider my welfare in all things.  But you can’t take mother’s place in my heart.”

“I assure you, little girl, I do not want your mother’s place.”

Something peculiar in his tone arrested her notice, and lifting her large lovely eyes she met his searching gaze.

“That is right, keep your eyes so, fixed steadily on mine, while I discharge a rather delicate and embarrassing duty, which sometimes devolves upon the grim guardians of pretty young ladies.  In your mother’s absence I am supposed to occupy a quasi parental position toward you; and am the authorized custodian of your secrets, should you, like most persons of your age, chance to possess any.  Your mother, you are aware, invested me with this right as her vicegerent, consequently you must pardon the inquisition into the state of your affections, which just now I am compelled to make.  Although I consider you entirely too young for such grave propositions, it is nevertheless proper that I should be the medium of their presentation when they become inevitable.  Upon the tender and very susceptible heart of Mr. Elliott Roscoe it appears that either with ’malice prepense,’ or else, let us hope, in innocent unconsciousness, you have been practising certain feminine wiles and sorcery, which have so far capsized his reason, that he is incapacitated for attending to his business.  When I remonstrated against the lunacy into which he is drifting, he in very poetic and chivalric style—­which it is unnecessary to repeat here—­assured me that you were the element which had utterly deranged his cerebral equipoise.  Elliott Roscoe is my