caught her by the waist, and saved her
from Heaven knows what imaginable disaster; and the scene ended in a
half-hysterical laugh. But the wind then set upon them both with a
malevolent fury; and the baron was, I presume, obliged to draw her
closer to his side.

They were alone, save for the presence of those mischievous
confederates, Nature and Opportunity. In the half-obscurity of the
storm she could not help turning her mischievous eyes on his. But she
was perhaps surprised to find them luminous, soft, and, as it seemed to
her at that moment, grave beyond the occasion. An embarrassment
utterly new and singular seized upon her; and when, as she half feared
yet half expected, he bent down and pressed his lips to hers, she was
for a moment powerless. But in the next instant she boxed his ears
sharply, and vanished in the darkness. When Mr. Blossom opened the door
to the baron he was surprised to find that gentleman alone, and still
more surprised to find, when they re-entered the house, to see Mistress
Thankful enter at the same moment, demurely, from the front door.

When Mr. Blossom knocked at his daughter's door the next morning it
opened upon her completely dressed, but withal somewhat pale, and, if
the truth must be told, a little surly.

"And you were stirring so early, Thankful," he said: "'twould have been
but decent to have bidden God-speed to the guests, especially the
baron, who seemed much concerned at your absence."

Miss Thankful blushed slightly, but answered with savage celerity, "And
since when is it necessary that I should dance attendance upon every
foreign jack-in-the-box that may lie at the house?"

"He has shown great courtesy to you, mistress, and is a gentleman."

"Courtesy, indeed!" said Mistress Thankful.

"He has not presumed?" said Mr. Blossom suddenly, bringing his cold
gray eyes to bear upon his daughter's.

"No, no," said Thankful hurriedly, flaming a bright scarlet;
"but--nothing. But what have you there? a letter?"

"Ay,--from the captain, I warrant," said Mr. Blossom, handing her a
three-cornered bit of paper: "'twas left here by a camp-follower.
Thankful," he continued, with a meaning glance, "you will heed my
counsel in season. The captain is not meet for such as you."

Thankful suddenly grew pale and contemptuous again as she snatched the
letter from his hand. When his retiring footsteps were lost on the
stairs she regained her color, and opened the letter. It was