I turned round--it was Cornelius. The moonlight fell full on his pale and angry face. I rose, without answering; 1 felt--and, no doubt, I looked-- like a culprit. He gave me a glance in which sadness and severity blended: then, as it taking pity on my confusion, he silently held out his arm to me. As I took it, I attempted a justification, and said: "I took William for you, Cornelius, and came out to meet you. He is Miss Murray's nephew, you know, and I had not seen him for months. Did you come for me from home? I am sorry--very sorry, Cornelius." I sought his look, but vainly; it was fastened on William, who had risen, and now stood before us. Cornelius eyed him from head to foot, with a keen and scrutinising gaze, which the young man returned. Neither spoke-- there was an evident want of cordiality in the silent glances they exchanged. I began to feel uncomfortable; my sense of uneasiness increased when Cornelius turned towards me, and said coldly: "I am sorry to hurry you away, Daisy, but Kate is very anxious." And without taking the least notice of William, or seeming to think that I could have another word to say to him, he made me turn homewards. I felt so disconcerted at his displeasure, that I neither opened my lips, nor attempted to resist; but, when we had walked on together for a few minute, I gathered courage to say: "I must go back to bid him good evening, Cornelius." I disengaged my arm from his, and lightly ran back to the spot where we had left William, and where he still stood looking after us with folded arms. "Good night, William," I said, holding out my hand. He did not take it, but replied in a tone overflowing with reproach: "Why did you deceive me, Daisy?" "Deceive you, William!" "Why did you pretend to care for me when you are so wrapped up in another, that, from the moment he comes up, you have neither speech nor look for me?" "I have left him to come and bid you good night, and by way of thanks, you accuse me of deceiving you. How, and about what?" "What do you call speaking of him as if he were your grandfather, when I don't believe he is a bit older than I am?" "He is twenty-seven. But what about his age?" "I don't care about his age, nor about his looks either," replied William, with a scornful laugh. "You may think him handsome if you like-- I do not." I felt offended, and replied, shortly: "I never told you Cornelius was old. It was you chose to compare an elegant young man, of twenty-seven, to a coarse sea-captain of fifty, not I. I might add that your remarks are very childish, but I do not want to speak unkindly. Good night, William. I trust that when I come here to- morrow morning, I shall find you in a better temper." I turned away; he followed me. "Will you really come?" he asked, submissively. I replied, "Yes," and hastened away to join Cornelius, who was coming to meet me with a face so overcast, that I saw I was again at fault.