was without one--and rushed
towards the combatants, but before he could interfere, the fray was
ended. One of them had received a thrust through the sword arm, and his
blade dropping, his antagonist declared himself satisfied, and with a
grave salute walked off. The wounded man wrapped a lace handkerchief
round his arm, but immediately afterwards complained of great faintness.
Pitying his condition, and suspecting no harm, the grocer led him into
an inner room, where restoratives were offered by Mrs. Bloundel and her
daughter Amabel, both of whom had been alarmed by the noise of the
conflict. In a short time, the wounded man was so far recovered as to be
able to converse with his assistants, especially the younger one; and
the grocer having returned to the shop, his discourse became so very
animated and tender, that Mrs. Bloundel deemed it prudent to give her
daughter a hint to retire. Amabel reluctantly obeyed, for the young
stranger was so handsome, so richly dressed, had such a captivating
manner, and so distinguished an air, that she was strongly prepossessed
in his favour. A second look from her mother, however, caused her to
disappear, nor did she return. After waiting with suppressed anxiety for
some time, the young gallant departed, overwhelming the good dame with
his thanks, and entreating permission to call again. This was
peremptorily refused, but, notwithstanding the interdiction, he came on
the following day. The grocer chanced to be out at the time, and the
gallant, who had probably watched him go forth, deriding the
remonstrances of the younger Bloundel and Leonard, marched straight to
the inner room, where he found the dame and her daughter. They were much
disconcerted at his appearance, and the latter instantly rose with the
intention of retiring, but the gallant caught her arm and detained her.

"Do not fly me, Amabel," he cried, in an impassioned tone, "but suffer
me to declare the love I have for you. I cannot live without you."

Amabel, whose neck and cheeks were crimsoned with blushes, cast down her
eyes before the ardent regards of the gallant, and endeavoured to
withdraw her hand.

"One word only," he continued, "and I release you. Am I wholly
indifferent to you! Answer me--yes or no!"

"Do _not_ answer him, Amabel," interposed her mother. "He is deceiving
you. He loves you not. He would ruin you. This is the way with all these
court butterflies. Tell him you hate him, child, and bid him begon