," said Isabel coldly. "I love you very much,
but your father loves you better."

"It isn't because you love me--it's because you're a lady," Pansy
answered with the air of saying something very reasonable. "A lady can
advise a young girl better than a man."

"I advise you then to pay the greatest respect to your father's wishes."

"Ah yes," said the child eagerly, "I must do that."

"But if I speak to you now about your getting married it's not for your
own sake, it's for mine," Isabel went on. "If I try to learn from you
what you expect, what you desire, it's only that I may act accordingly."

Pansy stared, and then very quickly, "Will you do everything I want?"
she asked.

"Before I say yes I must know what such things are."

Pansy presently told her that the only thing she wanted in life was to
marry Mr. Rosier. He had asked her and she had told him she would do so
if her papa would allow it. Now her papa wouldn't allow it.

"Very well then, it's impossible," Isabel pronounced.

"Yes, it's impossible," said Pansy without a sigh and with the same
extreme attention in her clear little face.

"You must think of something else then," Isabel went on; but Pansy,
sighing at this, told her that she had attempted that feat without the
least success.

"You think of those who think of you," she said with a faint smile. "I
know Mr. Rosier thinks of me."

"He ought not to," said Isabel loftily. "Your father has expressly
requested he shouldn't."

"He can't help it, because he knows I think of HIM."

"You shouldn't think of him. There's some excuse for him, perhaps; but
there's none for you."

"I wish you would try to find one," the girl exclaimed as if she were
praying to the Madonna.

"I should be very sorry to attempt it," said the Madonna with unusual
frigidity. "If you knew some one else was thinking of you, would you
think of him?"

"No one can think of me as Mr. Rosier does; no one has the right."

"Ah, but I don't admit Mr. Rosier's right!" Isabel hypocritically cried.

Pansy only gazed at her, evidently much puzzled; and Isabel, taking
advantage of it, began to represent to her the wretched consequences of
disobeying her father. At this Pansy stopped her with the assurance that
she would never disobey him, would never marry without his consent. And
she announced, in the serenest, simplest tone, that, though she might
never marry Mr. Rosier, she would never cease to think of him. She
appeared to ha