ome, don't begin again, you two," said Walter, "or--no champagne."

"Now what a horrid threat!" said Julia. "I'll be good, for one."

In short they had a merry time, and Walter drove Julia home. Both were in
high spirits.

In the hall Walter found a short note from Mary Bartley:

"DEAR, DEAR WALTER,--I write with a bleeding heart to tell you that papa
has only just discovered our attachment, and I am grieved to say he
disapproves of it, and has forbidden me to encourage your love, that is
dearer to me than all the world. It is very hard. It seems so cruel. But
I must obey. Do not make obedience too difficult, dear Walter. And pray,
pray do not be as unhappy as I am. He says he has reasons, but he has not
told me what they are, except that your father has other views for you;
but, indeed, with both parents against us what can we do? Forgive me the
pain this will give you. Ask yourself whether it gives me any less. You
were all the world to me. Now everything is dull and distasteful. What a
change in one little day! We are very unfortunate. But it can not be
forever. And if you will be constant to me, you know I shall to you. I
_could not_ change. Ah, Walter, I little thought when I said I would
temporize, how soon I should be called on to do it. I can't write any
more for crying. I do nothing but cry ever since papa was so cruel; but I
must obey. Your loving, sorrowful

"MARY."

This letter was a chilling blow to poor Walter. He took it into his own
room and read it again and again. It brought the tears into his own eyes,
and discouraged him deeply for a time. But, of course, he was not so
disposed to succumb to authority as the weaker vessel was. He wrote back:

"My own Love,--Don't grieve for me. I don't care for anything so long as
you love me. I shall resist, of course. As for my father, I am going to
marry Julia to Percy Fitzroy, and so end my governor's nonsense. As for
your father, I do not despair of softening him. It is only a check; it is
not a defeat. Who on earth can part us if we are true to each other? God
bless you, dearest! I did not think you loved me so much. Your letter
gives me comfort forever, and only disappointment for a time. Don't fret,
sweet love. It will be all right in the end.

"Your grateful, hopeful love, till death, WALTER."

Mary opened this letter with a beating heart. She read it with tears and
smiles and utter amazement. She knew so little about the male character
that this wa