stice, the tutor
humbly proceeded to take. The result was to deepen his perplexity and
cause him to regret that he had so compliantly countersigned an account
which, every time he studied it in the light of his new wisdom, appeared
to bristle with problems.

Faithful to her promise, at the end of a week Rosalind presented herself
at Maxfield.

"Well, my child?" said the parent blandly, laying down his newspaper.

"I said I would come and speak again about what you were saying the
other day. Have you heard any more from your creditor?"

"Things remain, as far as he is concerned, in _statu quo_; and I am no
nearer being able to satisfy him to-day than I was a week ago; unless,
indeed--"

"All I have to say," said Rosalind nervously, "is, that I would work
like a slave to help you, if I could."

"Is that all?" asked the captain with falling face.

"You know it is, father. You knew it a week ago. You knew I would even
go to this man and on my knees beg him to be merciful."

Her father laughed dismally.

"In other words," said he, "you can do nothing. I do not complain; I
expected nothing, and I have not been disappointed. I was foolish to
think such a thing possible; Heaven knows I have been punished for my
folly."

She tried hard to keep back the tears, and rose to go.

"Stay!" said he sternly; "I have a question to ask you. A week ago you
seemed to hold a different mind to this. What has changed it?"

"No," said she, "it was out of the question; you said so yourself."

"I ask you," repeated he sternly, and not heeding her protest, "what has
changed it? Have you taken counsel with any one on the subject? Have
you spoken to any one of this wretched business?"

"Yes; I have spoken to Mr Armstrong."

"Exactly. I thought as much. I understand. Leave me, Rosalind."

"Father, you are wrong-- Oh, but you must hear me," she said, as he
raised his hand deprecatingly and took up his newspaper. "You must not
misunderstand. I told Mr Armstrong of your difficulties, and who your
creditor was. I told him no more. My only object was to see if there
was any way to help you."

"You mean to tell me," said he, interrupting in an angry voice, "that
you considered it consistent with your duty as a daughter to gossip
about my private affairs with a scoundrel who--"

"No, father," she said. "Mr Armstrong is a gentleman--"

"Naturally _you_ say so. But enough of this. I forbid you, as I have
already don