lived with me, and then--she was taken away.

"I was ill for a long time," continued the General, in a gentle
voice. "I prayed for death, but God spared me for my child's sake. I
recovered sufficiently to attend to the duties of my office, but it
was with difficulty that I did so. I never regained my former
strength. My child grew older, and at length I determined to return
to England. I have come here to find all my relatives dead, and you,
the old friend of my boyhood, are the only survivor. One thing there
is, however, that imbitters my situation now. My health is still very
precarious, and I may at any moment leave my child unprotected. She
is the one concern of my life. I said that I had come here to ask a
favor of you. It was this, that you would allow me to nominate you as
her guardian in case of my death, and assist me also in finding any
other guardian to succeed you in case you should pass away before she
reached maturity. This was my purpose. But after what you have told
me other things have occurred to my mind. I have been thinking of a
plan which seems to me to be the best thing for both of us.

"Listen now to my proposal," he said, with greater earnestness. "That
you should give up Chetwynde is not to be thought of for one moment.
In addition to my own patrimony and my wife's inheritance I have
amassed a fortune during my residence in India, and I can think of no
better use for it than in helping my old friend in his time of need."

Lord Chetwynde raised his hand deprecatingly.

"Wait--no remonstrance. Hear me out," said the General. "I do not ask
you to take this as a loan, or any thing of the kind. I only ask you
to be a protector to my child. I could not rest in my grave if I
thought that I had left her unprotected."

"What!" cried Lord Chetwynde, hastily interrupting him, "can you
imagine that it is necessary to buy my good offices?"

"You don't understand me yet, Chetwynde; I want more than that. I
want to secure a protector for her all her life. Since you have told
me about your affairs I have formed a strong desire to see her
betrothed to your son. True, I have never seen him, but I know very
well the stock he comes from. I know his father," he went on, laying
his hand on his friend's arm; "and I trust the son is like the
father. In this way you see there will be no gift, no loan, no
obligation. The Chetwynde debts will be all paid off, but it is for
my daughter; and where could I get a bette