‘Now or never,’ thought he, ’before my courage cools.  I never saw my father in such spirits!’

He sat down on an ottoman opposite to her, and turned over some newspapers with a restless rustling.

‘Can I fetch anything for you?’ asked Mary, looking up.

‘No, thank you.  You are a great deal too good to me, Mary.’

‘I am glad,’ said Mary, absently, anxious to go on with her letter; but, looking up again at him—­’I am sure you want something.’

‘No—­nothing—­but that you should be still more good to me.’

‘What is the matter?’ said Mary, suspecting that he was beginning to repent of his lazy fit, and wanted her to hear his confession.

‘I mean, Mary,’ said he, rising, and speaking faster, ’if you—­if you would take charge of me altogether.  If you would have me, I would do all I could to make you happy, and it would be such joy to my father, and—­’(rather like an after-thought)’to me.’

Her clear, sensible eyes were raised, and her colour deepened, but the confusion was on the gentleman’s side—­she was too much amazed to feel embarrassment, and there was a pause, till he added, ’I know better than to think myself worthy of you; but you will take me in hand—­and, indeed, Mary, there is no one whom I like half so well.’

Poor Louis! was this his romantic and poetical wooing!

‘Stop, if you please, Louis!’ exclaimed Mary.  ’This is so very strange!’ And she seemed ready to laugh.

‘And—­what do you say, Mary?’

‘I do not know.  I cannot tell what I ought to say,’ she returned, rising.  ‘Will you let me go to mamma?’

She went; and Louis roamed about restlessly, till, on the stairs, he encountered Mrs. Frost, who instantly exclaimed, ’Why, my dear, what is the matter with you?’

‘I have been proposing to Mary,’ said he, in a very low murmur, his eyes downcast, but raised the next moment, to see the effect, as if it had been a piece of mischief.

‘Well—­proposing what?’

‘Myself;’ most innocently whispered.

‘You!—­you!—­Mary!—­And—­’ Aunt Catharine was scarcely able to speak, in the extremity of her astonishment.  ‘You are not in earnest!’

‘She is gone to her mother,’ said Louis, hanging over the baluster, so as to look straight down into the hall; and both were silent, till Mrs. Frost exclaimed, ’My dear, dear child, it is an excellent choice!  You must be very happy with her!’

‘Yes, I found my father was bent on it.’

‘That was clear enough,’ said his aunt, laughing, but resuming a tone of some perplexity.  ’Yet it takes me by surprise:  I had not guessed that you were so much attracted.’

’I do like her better than any one.  No one is so thoroughly good, no one is likely to make me so good, nor my father so happy.’

There was some misgiving in Mrs. Frost’s tone, as she said, ’Dear Louis, you are acting on the best of motives, but—­’