tant again?" he inquired, putting his hand to his head in the same
confused manner.

"Now, which one of these young ladies do you take to have been your
'celestial visitant,' as you most absurdly call her?"

"Oh, the fair, golden-haired, azure-eyed angel, robed so appropriately
in pure white!"

"That was Miss Emma Cavendish," said Mr. Lyle, very uneasily; "and you
talk of her like a lover, Hartman--and like a very mad lover too! But
oh, I earnestly implore you, do not become so very mad, so frenzied as
to let yourself love Emma Cavendish! By birth, education and fortune she
is one of the first young ladies in the country, and a bride for a
prince. Do not, I conjure you, think of loving her yourself!"

Victor Hartman laughed a little light laugh, that seemed to do him good,
as he answered:

"Do not be afraid. I worship her too much to think of loving her in the
way you mean. And, besides, if I am not greatly mistaken, _my boy_ has
been before me."

"Alden Lytton?"

"Yes, sir. I saw it all. I was too much interested not to see it. My boy
and my angel like one another. Heaven bless them both! They are worthy
of each other. They will make a fine pair. He so handsome; she so
beautiful! He so talented; she so lovely! His family is quite as good as
hers. And as for a fortune, his shall equal hers!" said Victor, warmly.

"Will you give away all your wealth to make your 'boy' happy?" inquired
Mr. Lyle, with some emotion.

"No! The Red Cleft mine is not so easily exhausted. Besides, in any
case, I should save something for my girl She must have a marriage
portion too!"

"You really ought to have a guardian appointed by the court to take care
of you and your money, Victor. You will give it all away. And,
seriously, it grieves me to see you so inclined to rob yourself so
heavily to enrich others, even such as these excellent young people,"
said Mr. Lyle, with feeling.

"Be easy! When I have enriched them both I shall still have an
unexhausted gold mine! By the way, parson--parson!"

"Well, Hartman?"

"I saw something else beside the love between my angel and my boy. I
saw--saw a certain liking between my girl and my friend."

If the bright starlight had been bright enough Victor Hartman might have
seen the vivid blush that mantled all over the ingenuous face of Stephen
Lyle.

"I certainly admire Miss Lytton very much. She is a genuine girl," said
Mr. Lyle, as composedly as if his face was not crimson.

"And I