the frankness peculiar to his nature, "I cannot
withhold from you the honest expression of my sentiments. It would
be unjust to myself, and unjust to you; for those sentiments too
nearly involve my own peace, and, it may be, yours."

The count hesitated, and looked interesting. Arabella blushed and
trembled. The words, "You will speak to my father," were on the
young lady's tongue. But she checked herself, and remained silent.
It would not do to make that reference of the subject.

Then came a gentle pressure of hair upon her cheek, and a gentle
pressure from the gloved hand in which her own was resting.

"My dear young lady, am I understood?" Arabella answered,
delicately, by returning the gentle pressure of her hand, and
leaning perceptibly nearer the Count De Courci.

"I am the happiest of men!" said the count, enthusiastically.

"And I the happiest of women," responded Arabella, not audibly, but
in spirit.

"Your father?" said De Courci. "Shall I see him?"

"It will not be well yet," replied the maiden, evincing a good deal
of confusion. "My father is"--

"Is what?" asked the nobleman, slightly elevating his person.

"Is a man of some peculiar notions. Is, in fact, too rigidly
American. He does not like"--

Arabella hesitated.

"Doesn't like foreigners. Ah! I comprehend," and the count shrugged
his shoulders and looked dignified; that is, as dignified as a man
whose face is covered with hair can look.

"I am sorry to say that he has unfounded prejudices against every
thing not vulgarly American."

"He will not consent, then?"

"I fear not, Mr. De Courci."

"Hum-m. Ah!" and the count thought for some moments. "Will not
consent. What then? Arabella!" and he warmed in his
manner--"Arabella, shall an unfounded prejudice interpose with its
icy barriers? Shall hearts that are ready to melt into one, be kept
apart by the mere word of a man? Forbid it, love! But suppose I go
to him?"

"It will be useless! He is as unbending as iron."

Such being the case, the count proposed an elopement, to which
Arabella agreed, after the expression of as much reluctance as
seemed to be called for. A few weeks subsequently, Mr. Jones
received a letter from some person unknown, advising him of the fact
that if at a certain hour on that evening he would go to a certain
place, he would intercept Mr. De Courci in the act of running away
with his daughter. This intelligence half maddened the father. He
hurried home, int