ng account, and
whose evil deeds may sleep with him. For this,' said he, extending his
hand, 'I ask your pardon; much more frankly and freely than I did on the
day when we met at Mr. Harson's.'

Ned took the proffered hand; at the same time pouring out a confusion of
words, the sum and substance of which was intended to be, that he had
taken no offence; that he knew Jacob was misled by others; that he was not
only perfectly willing, but very happy, to make up the matter, and say no
more about it; which no doubt was very true, for within six feet of him
stood Kate, with her soft eyes fixed on his face, and her little mouth
dimpled with smiles, as she observed how swimmingly matters were going on.
And could he be crusty and dogged? or could he cherish a grudge against
_her_ father? The thing was impossible. The extended hand was grasped, and
grasped warmly.

'Another thing I have to speak of,' said Rhoneland, relaxing somewhat at
the cordial tone of Ned's feelings. 'It is but a short time since I learnt
the full extent of my obligations to you, for the part you took in
unmasking the character of Rust, and in obtaining from him a disavowal of
charges against me, which, false as they were, were hard indeed to bear,
and were breaking me down. I have not finished,' said he, raising his hand
to prevent the interruption which Somers was endeavoring to make; 'let me
complete what I have to say, and you may speak as much as you like,
afterward. I will not thank you, for thanks are but words, and too often
mean nothing. Is there any thing that I can _do_, to lessen my
indebtedness to you?--or is there any way in which I can pay it off
altogether?'

He stopped, and looked earnestly in Ned's face. The red blood dashed up to
Somers' very forehead, and he could scarcely breathe for the thumping of
his heart, as the idea crossed him that now was the time to ask for Kate;
nor was his agitation at all diminished by casting a glance at her, and
seeing her cheeks crimson and her eyes downcast, as if she anticipated
what was going on in his mind. It must be confessed, however, that had
Rhoneland had no other clue to his wishes than that afforded by his words,
he would have been very much in the dark; for although Ned attempted to
speak out boldly, his lips trembled very much, and his voice was not as
obedient as he could wish; and all that was distinctly audible was the
girl's name.

'Why lad, what ails thee?' asked Rhoneland, unbending