earnest in his love.  For such love as that it is impossible that a girl should not be grateful.  There was nothing to allure him, nothing to tempt him to such a marriage, but a simple appreciation of her personal merits.  And in life he was at any rate her equal.  She had told Reginald Morton that Larry Twentyman was a fit companion for her and for her sisters, and she owned as much to herself every day.  When she acknowledged all this she was tempted to ask herself whether she ought not to accept the man, if not for her own sake at least for that of the family.

That same evening her father called her into the office after the clerks were gone and spoke to her thus.  “Your mamma is very unhappy, my dear,” he said.

“I’m afraid I have made everybody unhappy by wanting to go to Cheltenham.”

“It is not only that.  That is reasonable enough and you ought to go.  Mamma would say nothing more about that,—­if you would make up your mind to one thing.”

“What thing, papa?” Of course she knew very well what the thing was.

“It is time for you to think of settling in life, Mary.  I never would put it into a girl’s head that she ought to worry herself about getting a husband unless the opportunity seemed to come in her way.  Young women should be quiet and wait till they’re sought after.  But here is a young man seeking you whom we all like and approve.  A good house is a very good thing when it’s fairly come by.”

“Yes, papa.”

“And so is a full house.  A girl shouldn’t run after money, but plenty is a great comfort in this world when it can be had without blushing for.”

“Yes, papa.”

“And so is an honest man’s love.  I don’t like to see any girl wearying after some fellow to be always fal-lalling with her.  A good girl will be able to be happy and contented without that.  But a lone life is a poor life, and a good husband is about the best blessing that a young woman can have.”  To this proposition Mary perhaps agreed in her own mind but she gave no spoken assent.  “Now this young man that is wanting to marry you has got all these things, and as far as I can judge with my experience in the world, is as likely to make a good husband as any one I know.”  He paused for an answer but Mary could only lean close upon his arm and be silent.  “Have you anything to say about it, my dear?  You see it has been going on now a long time, and of course he’ll look to have it decided.”  But still she could say nothing.  “Well, now;—­he has been with me to-day.”

“Mr. Twentyman?”

“Yes,—–­Mr. Twentyman.  He knows you’re going to Cheltenham and of course he has nothing to say against that.  No young man such as he would be sorry that his sweetheart should be entertained by such a lady as Lady Ushant.  But he says that he wants to have an answer before you go.”

“I did answer him, papa.”

“Yes,—­you refused him.  But he hopes that perhaps you may think better of it.  He has been with me and I have told him that if he will come to-morrow you will see him.  He is to be here after dinner and you had better just take him up-stairs and hear what he has to say.  If you can make up your mind to like him you will please all your family.  But if you can’t, I won’t quarrel with you, my dear.”