er on his knee, and took her face between his two hands, saying,
in a smothered tone,

"You are not like your mother; you are like _mine_--ay, and seem more so
as you grow to be a woman."

"I wish I were a woman, that papa might talk to me and tell me anything
which he has on his mind," whispered Olive, scarcely daring to breathe
that which she had nerved herself to say, during many minutes of silent
pondering at the study-door.

Captain Rothesay relapsed hastily into his cold manner. "Child, how do
you know?"

"I know nothing, and want to know nothing, that papa does not wish to
tell me," answered Olive, gently.

The father turned round again, and looked into his daughter's eyes.
Perhaps he read there a spirit equal to, and not unlike, his own--a
nature calm, resolute, clear-sighted; the strong will and decision of
a man, united to the tenderness of a woman. From that hour father and
daughter understood one another.

"Olive, how old are you?--I forget."

"Fifteen, dear papa."

"Ah! and you are a thoughtful girl. I can talk to you as to a
woman--pah! I mean, a sensible woman. Put out your candle; you can sit
up a while longer."

She obeyed, and sat with him for two whole hours in his study, while he
explained to her how sudden reverses had so damaged his fortune that it
was necessary to have a far smaller establishment than Merivale Hall.

"Not that we need fear poverty, my dear child; but the future must be
considered and provided for. Your mother's jointure, should I die--nay,
do not look sad, we will not talk of that--and then, too, your own
portion, when you marry."

Olive blushed, as any girl of fifteen will do when talked to on such a
topic, even in the most business-like way. "I shall not marry, papa,"
said she, expressing the thought which had come to her, as it does
to most young girls who love their parents very dearly, too dearly to
imagine a parting.

Captain Rothesay started, as if suddenly recollecting himself. Then he
regarded her earnestly, mournfully; and in the look was something which
struck on Olive's memory as though she had seen it before.

"I had forgotten," muttered Captain Rothesay to himself. "Of course, she
will never marry. Poor child!--poor child!"

He kissed her very tenderly, then lighted his candle, and went upstairs
to bed, holding her hand all the way, until they parted at her room
door, when he kissed her a second time. As he did so, she contrived to
whisper--

"Ma