‘Well, you see,’ said Alfred, who had now regained his self-possession, ‘my friends advised me to break off the connection. You know, between ourselves, it wouldn’t do for a literary man of any standing to marry a common innkeeper’s daughter; although I must say the girl herself was well enough, and might have passed muster after a little training.’ The editor’s eyes became blacker, keener, and sharper—they seemed almost to flash fire as he said; ‘You would know what she was, I suppose, when you sought her love.—Yes? Then what right had you to avail yourself of that as an excuse for casting her off? It’s about the most unmanly thing I ever’—— ‘Hold, hold!’ cried Alfred, who saw he had gone on the wrong tack for conciliating the editor’s favour. ‘You misunderstand the matter. My friends wanted me to break off the marriage; but I never proposed such a thing to the young lady. I meant to marry her in two or three years honourably. But she wrote to me; and I went down to see her—and we had a quarrel, and she broke off the engagement herself—upon my honour, she did!’ The editor’s features relaxed their tension; there was almost the suggestion of a smile lurking in the corners of his mouth. ‘Well, Mr Roberton, I am glad you have cleared your character so well.—You are anxious to know why I accepted your first paper. This, I think, will explain it,’ he added, unlocking a private drawer and handing him a manuscript. Alfred looked at it with a stupefied air. Here were a dozen sheets of foolscap covered with Nan’s neat lady-like writing, and signed Ariel; reply to be addressed, Ariel, Glenluce post-office.—To lie till called for. He felt as if he were listening to a voice in a dream, as the editor went on to say: ‘You see, sir, I heard that Nan was going to be married to a young student she had met in Brussels. Now, students, as a rule, are not over-burdened with ready cash; and when I got the manuscript in her handwriting, I readily came to the conclusion that it was a production of her lover’s, and that she had copied it out in her own handwriting, thinking that, for old acquaintance’ sake, I would stretch a point, and give it admission to our pages, and pay handsomely for it. This I did; for I thought that, as her father would be certain to be opposed to the match, a little ready cash would be useful to her and her lover in taking up house. In fact, I may say I sent the little sum as a marriage present! But I cannot understand how you are not aware of all this.’