g gave no promise, and the occasion, weighed
in masculine balances, was not worthy.

"You do not mean that. You cannot mean it," said Dr. Staines, aghast.

"I do mean it," said she, firmly; "and, if you are a gentleman, you will
not compel me to say it twice--three times, I mean."

At this dagger-stroke Christopher turned very pale, but he maintained
his dignity. "I am a gentleman," said he, quietly, "and a very
unfortunate one. Good-by, sir; thank you kindly. Good-by, Rosa; God
bless you! Oh, pray take a thought! Remember, your life and death are in
your own hand now. I am powerless."

And he left the house in sorrow, and just, but not pettish, indignation.

When he was gone, father and daughter looked at each other, and there
was the silence that succeeds a storm.

Rosa, feeling the most uneasy, was the first to express her
satisfaction. "There, HE is gone, and I am glad of it. Now you and I
shall never quarrel again. I was quite right. Such impertinence! Such
indelicacy! A fine prospect for me if I had married such a man! However,
he is gone, and so there's an end of it. The idea! telling a young lady,
before her father, she is tight-laced! If you had not been there I could
have forgiven him. But I am not; it is a story. Now," suddenly exalting
her voice, "I know you believe him."

"I say nothing," whispered papa, hoping to still her by example. This
ruse did not succeed.

"But you look volumes," cried she: "and I can't bear it. I won't bear
it. If you don't believe ME, ask my MAID." And with this felicitous
speech, she rang the bell.

"You'll break the wire if you don't mind," suggested her father,
piteously.

"All the better! Why should not wires be broken as well as my heart? Oh,
here she is! Now, Harriet, come here."

"Yes, miss."

"And tell the truth. AM I tight-laced?"

Harriet looked in her face a moment to see what was required of her, and
then said, "That you are not, miss. I never dressed a young lady as wore
'em easier than you do."

"There, papa! That will do, Harriet."

Harriet retired as far as the keyhole; she saw something was up.

"Now," said Rosa, "you see I was right; and, after all, it was a match
you did not approve. Well, it is all over, and now you may write to your
favorite, Colonel Bright. If he comes here, I'll box his old ears. I
hate him. I hate them all. Forgive your wayward girl. I'll stay with
you all my days. I dare say that will not be long, now I have quarrelled