“What’s the matter with that self-willed girl of mine?” he asked, as he took the hand of Emerson, affecting a lightness of tone that did not correspond with his real feelings.

“Oh, nothing serious,” the young man replied.  “She’s only in a little pet because I wouldn’t go with her to the arbor before I paid my respects to you.”

“She’s a spoiled little puss,” said the father, in a fond yet serious way, “and you’ll have to humor her a little at first, Hartley.  She never had the wise discipline of a mother, and so has grown up unused to that salutary control which is so necessary for young persons.  But she has a warm, true heart and pure principles; and these are the foundation-stones on which to build the temple of happiness.”

“Don’t fear but that it will be all right between us.  I love her too well to let any flitting humors affect me.”

He stepped upon the portico as he spoke and sat down.  Irene had before this reached the arbor and taken a seat there.  Mr. Delancy could do no less than resume the chair from which he had arisen on the young man’s approach.  In looking into Hartley’s face he noticed a resolute expression about his mouth.  For nearly ten minutes they sat and talked, Irene remaining alone in the arbor.  Mr. Delancy then said, in a pleasant off-handed way,

“Come, Hartley, you have punished her long enough.  I don’t like to see you even play at disagreement.”

He did not seem to notice the remark, but started a subject of conversation that it was almost impossible to dismiss for the next ten minutes.  Then he stepped down from the portico, and was moving leisurely toward the arbor when he perceived that Irene had already left it and was returning by another path.  So he came back and seated himself again, to await her approach.  But, instead of joining him, she passed round the house and entered on the opposite side.  For several minutes he sat, expecting every instant to see her come out on the portico, but she did not make her appearance.

It was early in the afternoon.  Hartley, affecting not to notice the absence of Irene, kept up an animated conversation with Mr. Delancy.  A whole hour went by, and still the young lady was absent.  Suddenly starting, up, at the end of this time, Hartley exclaimed—­

“As I live, there comes the boat! and I must be in New York to-night.”

“Stay,” said Mr. Delancy, “until I call Irene.”

“I can’t linger for a moment, sir.  It will take quick walking to reach the landing by the time the boat is there.”  The young man spoke hurriedly, shook hands with Mr. Delancy, and then sprung away, moving at a rapid pace.

“What’s the matter, father?  Where is Hartley going?” exclaimed Irene, coming out into the portico and grasping her father’s arm.  Her face was pale and her lips trembled.

“He is going to New York,” relied Mr. Delancy.

“To New York!” She looked almost frightened.