hless.

"You--you cannot mean that, Lina--_my_ Lina loves some one else!" he
said, speaking rapidly--"Who has she known but me, and--and--?" He
stopped short, looking wistfully at his father.

"You and my son James? No one, certainly, no one."

"Brother James! oh, father."

"But you are satisfied that she loves you, and that is enough," answered
the General, waving his hand as if tired of the discussion. "It is
decided that this whole subject rests between ourselves. Come to me a
year, nay, six months from now, and if you desire it, then, I will not
be hard with you."

The General seated himself as he spoke, and resumed his book with a
gentle wave of the hand. Ralph bent his head partly in submission,
partly to conceal the flush that suppressed tears left about his eyes
and went out, leaving the first pure jewel of his heart in that old
man's hands.

The twilight had crept on during this conversation. General Harrington
rang the bell for a servant to remove the silver tray on which his
dinner had been served, and consumed considerable time in directing how
the lamp should be placed, in order to protect his eyes as he read. When
once more alone, he cast a thought back to his son.

"It will do him good. I wonder now if I, General Harrington, ever was so
confiding, so rash, so generous,--for the boy is generous. My son, on
whom so much depends, married to that girl! I was almost tempted into a
scene with the first mention of it."

With these thoughts floating through his brain, the General leaned back
in his chair more discomposed than usual by his late interview, for
though his reflections were all worldly and commonplace, they had a
deeper and unexpressed importance hardly recognized by himself.

Again there was a low knock at the door, and again the General bade the
intruder come in, rather hastily, for he was in no humor for company!
"Miss Barker; Miss Agnes Barker," he said, as that girl presented
herself and softly closed the door, "you are too kind--I only regret
that this pleasant surprise detects me en deshabille."

"General Harrington is always General Harrington in any dress--besides,
I have a preference for this sort of orientalism."

"You are kind to forgive me, and kinder to allow me the happiness of
your presence. Sit down!"

"No," answered the governess, with a look from her black almond-shaped
eyes that brought a glow into the old man's cheek deeper than the wine
had left. "I found the book