und of
your extreme childishness at the time of its being made. You must
forget the whole matter, my sweetest love, and prepare yourself to
listen to a suit more worthy of your social position," said Craven Le
Noir, attempting to steal his arm around her waist.

Clara coldly repelled him, saying:

"I am at a loss to understand, Mr. Le Noir, what act of levity on my
part has given you the assurance to offer me this affront!"

"Do you call it an affront, fair cousin, that I lay my hand and heart
and fortune at your feet?"

"I have called your act, sir, by its gentlest name. Under the
circumstances I might well have called it an outrage!"

"And what may be those circumstances that convert an act
of--adoration--into an outrage, my sweet cousin?"

"Sir, you know them well. I have not concealed from you or my guardian
that I am the affianced bride of Doctor Rocke, nor that our troth was
plighted with the full consent of my dear father," said Clara, gravely.

"Tut, tut, tut, my charming cousin, that was mere child's play--a
school-girl's romantic whim. Do not dream that your guardian will ever
permit you to throw yourself away upon that low-bred fellow."

"Mr. Le Noir, if you permit yourself to address me in this manner, I
shall feel compelled to retire. I cannot remain here to have my honored
father's will and memory, and the rights of my betrothed, insulted in
my person!" said Clara, rising to leave the room.

"No--stay! forgive me, Clara! pardon me, gentlest girl, if, in my great
love for you, I grow impatient of any other claim upon your heart,
especially from such an unworthy quarter. Clara, you are a mere child,
full of generous but romantic sentiments and dangerous impulses. You
require extra vigilance and firm exercise of authority on the part of
your guardian to save you from certain self-destruction. And some day,
sweet girl, you will thank us for preserving you from the horrors of
such a mesalliance," said Craven Le Noir, gently detaining her.

"I tell you, Mr. Le Noir, that your manner of speaking of my betrothal
is equally insulting to myself, Doctor Rocke and my dear father, who
never would have plighted our hands had he considered our prospective
marriage a mesalliance."

"Nor do I suppose he ever did plight your hands--while in his right
senses!"

"Oh, sir, this has been discussed before. I beg of you to let the
subject drop forever, remembering that I hold myself sacredly betrothed
to Traverse R