ere was a large party of us, but
by some chance we found ourselves side by side and in an avenue of the
wood. Quite full as my mind was of the communication of the morning, I
could not resist my usual impulse, which was to talk to her of any or
every thing that was uppermost in my thoughts. I don't mean to say, Dan,
that I did so delicately, or even becomingly, for I confess to you I had
grown into that kind of intimacy whose gravest fault is that it has
no reserve. I 'm quite certain that nothing could be worse in point of
taste or feeling than what I said. You can judge of it from her reply:
'And are you such a fool, Walter, as to cut an old friend for such silly
gossip?' I blundered out something in defence of myself,--floundered
away into all kinds of stupid, unmeaning apologies, and ended by asking
her to marry me. Up to that moment we were conversing in all the freedom
of our old friendship, not the slightest reserve on either side; but no
sooner had I uttered these words than she turned towards me with a look
so sad and so reproachful, I did not believe that her features could
have conveyed the expression, while, in a voice of deepest emotion, she
said: 'Oh, Walter, this from you!' I was brute enough--there 's only one
word for it--to misunderstand her; and, full of myself and the splendid
offer I had made her, and my confounded _amour propre_, I muttered
something about the opinion of the world, the voice of friends, and so
on. 'Tell your friends, then,' said she, and with such an emphasis on
the word,--'tell your friends that I refused you!' and giving her mare a
tremendous cut of the whip, she dashed off at speed, and was up with the
others before I had even presence of mind to follow her."

"You behaved devilish badly,--infamously. If I 'd been her brother, I'd
have shot you like a dog!" cried Dan, rising, and walking the room.

"I see it," said my father, covering his face with his handkerchief.

"I am sorry I said that, Watty,--I don't mean that," said Dan, laying
his hand on my father's shoulder. "It all comes of that infernal system
of interference! If they had left you alone, and to the guidance of your
own feelings, you 'd never have gone wrong. But the world will poke
in its d----d finger everywhere. It's rather hard, when good-breeding
protests against the bystander meddling with your game at chess, that he
should have the privilege of obtruding on the most eventful incident of
your existence."

"L