if old Mr. Hurst has deeper reasons than his
pride--that I would not bend to a minute--and he gives no other reason
if they tell me truly. This young man is his book-keeper, and so his
love is presumptuous. Probably old Hurst has imported a cargo of
aristocratic arrogance from Europe, and the young people tell the
truth. If so, why I will even marry them, and let the stately
gentleman make the best of it. Still, I half wish the thing had not
fallen upon me."

Meantime the bridegroom and his friend walked slowly toward the water.

"And so you have snared the bird at last," said Byrne.

"I did not think you could manage to get her down here. When did she
come?"

"Yesterday," said Jameson.

"Alone?"

"Quite alone; her father thinks her visiting a friend."

"But _you_ left the city yesterday."

"Yes."

"And not with her?"

"She came down alone--so did I."

"But directly after--ha!"

Jameson smiled, that same crafty smile that had curled his lips even
when they rested upon the forehead of Florence Hurst.

"And did she sanction this. By heavens! I would not have believed
it--so proud, so sensitive!"

"No, no, Byrne, to do Florence justice, she supposes that I came down
this morning; but the old house is large, and it was easy enough for
me to find a nook to sleep in, without her knowledge."

"But what object have you in this?"

"Why, as to my object, it is scarcely settled yet; but it struck me
that by this movement I might obtain a hold upon her father's family
pride, should his affection for Florence fail. The haughty old don
would hardly like it to be known in the city that his lovely
daughter--his only child--had spent the night alone, in an old
country-house, with her father's book-keeper."

"But how would he know this; surely you would not become the
informant?"

"Why, no!" replied Jameson, with a smile; "but I took a little pains
to inquire about the localities of this old nest up at the village.
The good people had seen Miss Hurst leave the stage an hour before and
walk over this way. It seems very natural that he may hear it from
that quarter."

Byrne looked at his companion a moment almost sternly, then dropping
his eyes to the ground, he began to dash aside the rich blossoms from
a tuft of pansies with his cane.

"You do not approve of this?" said Jameson, studying his companion's
countenance.

"No."

"Why, it can do no harm. What would the girl be to me without her
expectations. I