“What a category of qualities! How interested young ladies are in a pale, thin boy! Well then”--seeing that Agatha looked serious--“well then, I declare to Heaven that, even according to your high-flown definitions, he is as noble a lad as ever breathed. I can find no fault in him, except that, as I said, he is such a mere boy. Are you satisfied? Did you want to try if I were indeed a heartless, unbrotherly, good-for-nothing fellow, as you appear to think me sometimes?” “No,” said Agatha briefly, noticing with something like scorn the Major's instinctive assumption that her questions must have some near or remote reference to himself, while he never once guessed their real motive. That answered, she changed the conversation. After half-an-hour's chat, Major Harper delicately alluded to the supposed business on which she had wished to see him, though in a tone that showed him to be rather doubtful whether it existed at all. Agatha coloured, and her heart quailed a little, as any girl's would, in having to speak so openly of things which usually reach young maidens softly murmured amidst the confessions of first love, or revealed by tender parents with blessings and tears. Life's earliest and best romance came to her with all its bloom worn away--all its sacredness and mystery set aside. For a moment she felt this hard. “I wished to inform you of something nearly concerning me, which, as the guardian appointed by my father, it is right you should know. I have had”--here she tried to make her lips say the words without faltering--“I have had an offer of marriage.” “God bless my soul!” stammered out Major Harper, completely thrown off his guard by surprise. A very awkward pause ensued, until, his natural good feeling conquering any other, he said, not without emotion, “The fact of your consulting me shows that this offer is--is not without interest to you. May I ask--is it likely--that I shall have to congratulate you?” “Yes.” He rose up slowly, and walked to the window. Whether his sensations were merely those of wounded vanity, or whether he had liked her better than he himself acknowledged, certain it was that Major Frederick Harper was a good deal moved--so much so, that he succeeded in concealing it. He came back, very kind, subdued, and tender, sat down by her side and took her hand. “You will not wonder that I am somewhat surprised--nay, affected--by these sudden tidings, viewing you as I have always done in the light of a--younger sister--or--or a daughter. Your happiness must naturally be very dear to me.” “Thank you,” murmured Agatha; and the tears came into her eyes. She felt that she had been somewhat harsh to him; but she felt, too, with great thankfulness, that, despite this softening compunction, her heart was free and firm. She had great liking, but not a particle of love, for Major Harper. “I trust the--the gentleman you allude to is of a character likely to make you happy?”