"He said it, before me, to Miss Grainger. He said I was to be neither a governess nor a lady; and that a common-place education, and some decent occupation, were to be my destiny." The words had stung me to the quick at the time, and had never been forgotten. As I repeated them, the blood rushed up to the face of Cornelius O'Reilly; his look lit; his lip trembled with all the quickness of emotion of his race. "But you shall be a lady," he exclaimed, with rapid warmth. "Your father, who was an Irish gentleman born and bred, gave me the education of a gentleman; and I will give you the education of a lady,--so help me God!" He drew and pressed me to him. I looked up at him, and said, "I should not take up much room." He seemed surprised at the observation. I continued--"And Mrs. Marks says I eat so little." Cornelius looked perplexed. "Will you take me with you?" I asked earnestly. Cornelius drew in a long breath. "You are an odd child!" he said. I passed my arms around his neck, and asked again, "Will you take me with you?" "Why do you want me to take you?" I hung down my head, and did not answer. The strange unconquerable shyness of childhood was on me, and rendered me tongue-tied. Cornelius gently raised my face, so that it met his look, and smiled at seeing it grow hot and flushed beneath his gaze. "Do you really want me to take you?" he asked, after a pause. I looked up quickly; I said nothing; but if childhood has no words to render its feelings, it has eloquent looks easily read. Cornelius was at no loss to understand the meaning of mine. "Indeed, then, if I can I will," he replied earnestly. "Oh! we can get out by the back-door," I said, quickly. "My dear," answered Cornelius, gravely, "never leave a house by the back- door, unless in case of fire; besides, it would look like an elopement. We must speak to Mr. Thornton." I could not see the necessity of this; but I submitted to his decision, and, taking his hand, I accompanied him downstairs. No stray domestic was visible, not even the little servant appeared. Cornelius looked around him, then resolutely knocked at the door of my grandfather's study. A sharp "Come in!" authorized us to enter. This time Mr. Thornton had exchanged the magnifying glass and the beetle for a pair of compasses and an immense map which covered the whole table. He looked up; and, on perceiving Cornelius, exclaimed, with a ludicrous expression of dismay, "Sir, have you brought me another little girl?" "No, Sir," replied Cornelius smiling; "this is the same." "Oh! the same, is it?" "No; not quite the same," resumed Cornelius; "the child, whom I left here a month ago, is strangely altered; question her yourself, Sir, and ascertain the manner in which, without your wish or knowledge, I feel assured, your grand-daughter has been treated in your house." My grandfather gave the young man a sharp look, and his brown face darkened in meaning if not in hue.