sity of
my speech, and even while your lips spoke the contrary."

"You are bold, Ralph, and seem to have forgotten that you are yet but a
mere boy. You forget your years and mine."

"No, sir--pardon me when I so speak--but it is you who have forgotten
them. Was it well to speak as you have spoken?" proudly replied the
youth.

"Ralph, you have forgotten much, or have yet to be taught many things.
You may not have violated confidence, but--"

"I _have not_ violated confidence!" was the abrupt and somewhat
impetuous response, "and will not have it spoken of in that manner. It
is not true that I have abused any trust, and the assertion which I make
shall not therefore be understood as a mere possibility."

The uncle was something astounded by the almost fierce manner of his
nephew; but the only other effect of this expression was simply, while
it diminished his own testiness of manner in his speeches, to add
something to the severity of their character. He knew the indomitable
spirit of the youth, and his pride was enlisted in the desire for its
overthrow.

"You are yet to learn, Ralph Colleton, I perceive, the difference and
distance between yourself and my daughter. You are but a youth,
yet--quite too young to think of such ties as those of marriage, and to
make any lasting engagement of that nature; but, even were this not the
case, I am entirely ignorant of those pretensions which should prompt
your claim to the hand of Edith."

Had Colonel Colleton been a prudent and reflective man--had he, indeed,
known much, if anything, of human nature--he would have withheld the
latter part of this sentence. He must have seen that its effect would
only be to irritate a spirit needing an emollient. The reply was
instantaneous.

"My pretensions, Colonel Colleton? You have twice uttered that word in
my ears, and with reference to this subject. Let me understand you. If
you would teach me by this sentence the immeasurable individual
superiority of Edith over myself in all things, whether of mind, or
heart, or person, the lesson is gratuitous. I need no teacher to this
end. I acknowledge its truth, and none on this point can more perfectly
agree with you than myself. But if, looking beyond these particulars,
you would have me recognize in myself an inferiority, marked and
singular, in a fair comparison with other men--if, in short, you would
convey an indignity; and--but you are my father's brother, sir!" and the
blood mounte