Carradyne.

"Did you ever know a child like her?"

"She is but as her mother was; as you were, Eliza--always rebellious.
Kate, sit down to the piano and play one of your pretty tunes."

"I won't," responded Kate. "Play yourself, Aunt Emma."

Dashing through the open glass doors, Kate began tossing a ball on the
broad gravel walk below the terrace. Mrs. Carradyne cautioned her not to
break the windows, and turned to the tea-table.

"Don't make the tea yet, Aunt Emma," interrupted Miss Monk, in a tone
that was quite like a command. "Mr. Grame is coming, and he won't care
for cold tea."

Mrs. Carradyne returned to her seat. She thought the opportunity had
come to say something to her niece which she had been wanting to say.

"You invited Mr. Grame, Eliza?"

"I did," said Eliza, looking defiance.

"My dear," resumed Mrs. Carradyne with some hesitation, "forgive me if I
offer you a word of advice. You have no mother; I pray you to listen to
me in her stead. You must change your line of behaviour to Mr. Grame."

Eliza's dark face turned red and haughty. "I do not understand you, Aunt
Emma."

"Nay, I think you do understand me, my dear. You have incautiously
allowed yourself to fall into--into an undesirable liking for Mr. Grame.
An _unseemly_ liking, Eliza."

"Unseemly!"

"Yes; because it has not been sought. Cannot you see, Eliza, how he
instinctively recedes from it? how he would repel it were he less the
gentleman than he is? Child, I shrink from saying these things to you,
but it is needful. You have good sense, Eliza, keen discernment, and you
might see for yourself that it is not to you Mr. Grame's love is
given--or ever will be."

For once in her life Eliza Monk allowed herself to betray agitation. She
opened her trembling lips to speak, but closed them again.

"A moment yet, Eliza. Let us suppose, for argument's sake, that Mr.
Grame loved you; that he wished to marry you; you know, my dear, how
utterly useless it would be. Your father would not suffer it."

"Mr. Grame is of gentle descent; my father is attached to him," disputed
Eliza.

"But Mr. Grame has nothing but his living--a hundred and sixty pounds
a-year; _you_ must make a match in accordance with your own position. It
would be Katherine's trouble, Katherine's rebellion over again. But this
was mentioned for argument's sake only; Mr. Grame will never sue for
anything of the kind; and I must beg of you, my dear, to put all idea of
it awa