st both to herself and to her foreign kinsman; she could only
have said--or rather, she would never have said it--that she did
not like so much gentleman's society at once. She was not reassured,
accordingly, when he began, emphasizing his words with a kind of
admiring radiance, "My dear cousin, I am enchanted at finding you
alone."

"I am very often alone," Charlotte observed. Then she quickly added, "I
don't mean I am lonely!"

"So clever a woman as you is never lonely," said Felix. "You have
company in your beautiful work." And he glanced at the big slipper.

"I like to work," declared Charlotte, simply.

"So do I!" said her companion. "And I like to idle too. But it is not
to idle that I have come in search of you. I want to tell you something
very particular."

"Well," murmured Charlotte; "of course, if you must"--

"My dear cousin," said Felix, "it 's nothing that a young lady may not
listen to. At least I suppose it is n't. But voyons; you shall judge. I
am terribly in love."

"Well, Felix," began Miss Wentworth, gravely. But her very gravity
appeared to check the development of her phrase.

"I am in love with your sister; but in love, Charlotte--in love!" the
young man pursued. Charlotte had laid her work in her lap; her hands
were tightly folded on top of it; she was staring at the carpet. "In
short, I 'm in love, dear lady," said Felix. "Now I want you to help
me."

"To help you?" asked Charlotte, with a tremor.

"I don't mean with Gertrude; she and I have a perfect understanding; and
oh, how well she understands one! I mean with your father and with the
world in general, including Mr. Brand."

"Poor Mr. Brand!" said Charlotte, slowly, but with a simplicity which
made it evident to Felix that the young minister had not repeated to
Miss Wentworth the talk that had lately occurred between them.

"Ah, now, don't say 'poor' Mr. Brand! I don't pity Mr. Brand at all.
But I pity your father a little, and I don't want to displease him.
Therefore, you see, I want you to plead for me. You don't think me very
shabby, eh?"

"Shabby?" exclaimed Charlotte softly, for whom Felix represented the
most polished and iridescent qualities of mankind.

"I don't mean in my appearance," rejoined Felix, laughing; for Charlotte
was looking at his boots. "I mean in my conduct. You don't think it 's
an abuse of hospitality?"

"To--to care for Gertrude?" asked Charlotte.

"To have really expressed one's self. Because