a daughter of my house; that would be what
every one would allow to be reasonable in a father; except, indeed,"
added the poor sage, trying hard to be sprightly, and catching hold of
a proverb to help him--"except, indeed, those wise enough to recollect
that admonitory saying, 'Casa il figlio quando vuoi, e la figlia quando
puoi,'--[Marry your son when you will, your daughter when you can].
Seriously, if I overlook those objections to Mr. Leslie, it is not
natural for a young girl to enforce them. What is reason in you is quite
another thing from reason in me. Mr. Leslie is young, not ill-looking,
has the air of a gentleman, is passionately enamoured of you, and
has proved his affection by risking his life against that villanous
Peschiera,--that is, he would have risked it had Peschiera not been
shipped out of the way. If, then, you will listen to reason, pray what
can reason say against Mr. Leslie?"

"Father, I detest him!"

"Cospetto!" persisted Riccabocca, testily, "you have no reason to detest
him. If you had any reason, child, I am sure that I should be the last
person to dispute it. How can you know your own mind in such a matter?
It is not as if you had seen anyone else you could prefer. Not another
man of your own years do you even know,--except, indeed, Leonard
Fairfield, whom, though I grant he is handsomer, and with more
imagination and genius than Mr. Leslie, you still must remember as the
boy who worked in my garden. Ah, to be sure, there is Frank Hazeldean;
fine lad, but his affections are pre-engaged. In short," continued
the sage, dogmatically, "there is no one else you can, by any possible
caprice, prefer to Mr. Leslie; and for a girl who has no one else in
her head to talk of detesting a well-looking, well-dressed, clever young
man, is--a nonsense--'Chi lascia il poco per haver l'assai ne l'uno, ne
l'altro avera mai'--which may be thus paraphrased,--The young lady who
refuses a mortal in the hope of obtaining an angel, loses the one, and
will never fall in with the other. So now, having thus shown that the
darker side of the question is contrary to reason, let us look to the
brighter. In the first place--"

"Oh, Father, Father!" cried Violante, passionately, "you to whom I once
came for comfort in every childish sorrow do not talk to me with this
cutting levity. See, I lay my head upon your breast, I put my arms
around you; and now, can you reason me into misery?"

"Child, child, do not be so waywa