elf, Mr. Lind's acquaintance with him was no doubt but recent and
comparatively slight; but if he wished any further and natural inquiry
into the character of the man to whom he was asked to intrust his
daughter, Lord Evelyn might be consulted as his closest friend. And a
speedy answer was requested.

This letter was, on the whole, rather a calm and business-like
performance. Brand could appeal to Natalie, and that earnestly and
honestly enough; he felt he could not bring himself to make any such
appeal to her father. Indeed, any third person reading this letter would
have taken it to be more of the nature of a formal demand, or something
required by the conventionalities; a request the answer to which was not
of tremendous importance, seeing that the two persons most interested
had already come to an understanding.

But Mr. Lind did not look at it in that light at all. He was at first
surprised; then vexed and impatient, rather than angry; then determined
to put an end to this nonsense at once. If he had deemed the matter more
serious, he would have sat down and considered it with his customary
fore thought; but he was merely irritated.

"Beratinsky was not so mad as I took him to be, after all," he said to
himself. "Fortunately, the affair has not gone too far."

He carried the open letter up-stairs, and found Natalie in the
drawing-room, dusting some pieces of Venetian glass.

"Natalie," he said, with an abruptness that startled her, and in a tone
of anger which was just a little bit affected--"Natalie, what is the
meaning of this folly?"

She turned and regarded him. He held the open letter in his hand. She
said, calmly,

"I do not understand you."

This only vexed him the more.

"I ask you what you have been doing in my absence?" he said, angrily.
"What have you been doing to entitle any man to write me such a letter
as this? His affection! your future!--has he not something else to think
of? And you--you seem not to have been quite so dull when I was away,
after all! Well, it is time to have an end of it. Whatever nonsense may
have been going on, I hope you have both of you come to your senses. Let
me hear no more of it!"

Now she saw clearly what the letter must contain--what had stirred her
father to such an unusual exhibition of wrath. She was a little pale,
but not afraid. There was no tremor in her voice as she spoke.

"I am sorry, papa, you should speak to me like that. I think you forget
that