“Nothing new, sir.  He has never forgiven me for turning teacher.”

“Forgiven!  Bless me, he is as spiteful as a Pequod!”

“Begging your pardon, Dr. Asbury, he is no such thing!” cried Beulah impetuously.

“Just what I might have expected.  I am to understand, then, that you can abuse my partner sufficiently without any vituperative assistance from me?” He brushed the ashes from his cigar, and looked at her quizzically.

“Sir, it pains me to hear him spoken of so lightly.”

“Lightly!  Upon my word, I thought Indianic malice was rather a heavy charge.  However, I can succeed better if you will allow—­”

“Don’t jest, sir.  Please say no more about him.”

His face became instantly grave, and he answered earnestly: 

“Beulah, as a sincere friend, I would advise you not to alienate Hartwell.  There are very few such men; I do not know his equal.  He is interested in your welfare and happiness, and is the best friend you ever had or ever will have.”

“I know it, and prize his friendship above all others.”

“Then why did you return that watch?  If he wished you to wear it, why should you refuse?  Mark me, he said nothing about it to me; but I saw the watch, with your name engraved on the case, at the jewelry store where I bought one just like it for Georgia.  I surmised it was that same watch, when you intrusted the package to me.”

“I was already greatly indebted to him, and did not wish to increase the obligation.”

“My child, under the circumstances, you were too fastidious.  He was very much annoyed; though, as I told you before, he made no allusion to the subject.”

“Yes; I knew he would be, and I am very sorry, but could not think of accepting it.”

“Oh, you are well matched, upon my word!”

“What do you mean?”

“That you are both as proud as Lucifer and as savage as heathens.  Child, I don’t see what is to become of you.”

“Every soul is the star of its own destiny,” answered Beulah.

“Well, very sorry destinies the majority make, I can tell you.  Have you seen Mrs. Lockhart and Pauline?”

“No.  I was not aware that they were in the city.”

“Lockhart’s health is miserable.  They are all at Hartwell’s for a few weeks, I believe.  Pauline has grown up a perfect Di Vernon beauty.”

“I should like very much to see her.  She is a generous, noble-souled girl.”

“Yes; I rather think she is.  Hartwell said the other day that Pauline was anxious to see you; and, since I think of it, I believe he asked me to tell you of her arrival.  Now, I will wager my head that you intend to wait until she calls formally, which it is your place to do.”

“Then, sir, expect immediate decapitation, for I shall go out to see her this very afternoon,” replied Beulah.

“That is right, my dear child.”

“Dr. Asbury, if you will not think me troublesome, I should like to tell you of some things that perplex me very much,” said she hesitatingly.