Cornelius turned on me with flashing eyes. "Unhappy child!" he exclaimed, "what do you mean by telling me all this? What have you been doing in my absence? What sort of a watch has Kate kept over the young girl I left to her care? What sense of honour has he who took so shameless an advantage of your ignorance, but who shall account to me for it yet?" He rose; his brow was stern; his face was pale. Half wild with terror, I threw my arms around his neck, and detained him. "It was my fault!" I exclaimed, eagerly; "all my fault--resent it upon me." "And what can I do to you?" answered Cornelius, looking down at me with strange anger and tenderness in his gaze; "what can I do to you?" "Hear me," I entreated, weeping. He sat down again, subdued at once by the sight of my tears, and said he would listen patiently. "William," I began. "Why speak of him?" he interrupted, with a clouded brow. "You have accused him; I must justify him, or bear my share of the blame." "Blame!" sorrowfully echoed Cornelius; "why should I blame you? I was away, and Kate was negligent, and another was there; it was natural, very natural." Encouraged by the gentleness of his tone, I stooped, and pressing my lips to his cheek, I said, in my most persuasive accents:-- "May I keep my appointment, Cornelius?" He turned upon me a flushed and troubled face. "I have heard of strange, tormenting things," he said, between his set teeth; "but I vow I never heard of anything to equal this. My God!" he added, pressing me to him with strange and sudden passion, "what can you want with that young man?" His look felt like fire; I bowed my face before its wrath. When I spoke, it was to say, in a faltering tone:-- "Cornelius, you are angry again; yet all I want is not to make William wait." "But what do you want with him?--What can you want with him?" desperately asked Cornelius. "He was so unreasonable; he said I did not care for him; and indeed, Cornelius, that was a great mistake of his. All I want is to speak to him a few minutes, and make him hear sense." "Oh, Daisy!" exclaimed Cornelius, with ill repressed anger, "is it possible you do not understand that it is not becoming for a young girl to go and meet a young man in a lonely place?" "Then forbid me to go!" I exclaimed, eagerly; "forbid me, that I may assure William if I broke my word to him, it was to obey you." Cornelius turned very pale; he rose, and said, in a moved and broken tone:-- "I am no tyrant. I do not forbid you to go. I claim no control over your feelings or actions. Go, and stay at your pleasure."