“She could not help herself, with those two women nagging her on! But I was determined the child should not be sent back to her mother in that discreditable manner, and so I immediately engaged her as my reader and writer, and conveyed a hint to those ladies that they would oblige me by treating her with proper consideration. Since that, I must say, they have behaved better.” “I thought the improvement in their manner to Miss Palmer was brought about through your interference; but I had no idea that she had passed from my mother’s service into yours,” said Ronald. “She has not yet done so. She was warned to leave Mrs. Bruce’s employment on next Saturday, when her father will come for her. She is to come back and enter mine on Monday—unless her parents should raise some objection, which I do not think likely—_or_, unless you should persist in your dangerous pursuit of her.” “‘Dangerous!’ sir?” echoed the young man. “Yes, dangerous! Dangerous to her peace, honor and reputation!” “But, sir, you misunderstand me, quite. I love Em.!” “Then you are very foolish.” “I have told her that I love her!” “You were very rash to do so.” “And, moreover, I know that I have won her love!” “Then, Ronald Brace, you have been very much to blame. How will you ever answer to her, or to your own conscience, for that child’s disappointed heart and lost happiness?” sternly demanded the old commodore. “My good uncle, I told you that you totally misapprehended me, and I repeat it. I do not intend to disappoint Em. Her happiness shall be the first object and fondest care of my life,” earnestly exclaimed Ronald. “What—in the deuce—do you mean?” slowly demanded Commodore Bruce, staring at his nephew with distended eyes. “What do I mean, do you ask, sir? What does any honorable man mean when he says that he loves a good young girl, that he has told her so, and that he intends to marry her?” exclaimed Ronald Bruce somewhat impatiently, as at his hearer’s want of comprehension. “Eh? What? What the foul fiend are you saying to me, Ronald?” demanded the provoked and puzzled old man. “I say that with your consent, sir, I will marry Em. Palmer,” firmly replied the young man. “Marry—Em.—Palmer?” “Yes, sir.” “You are raving mad! You are fit for nothing but a strait jacket and a lunatic asylum! Marry Em. Palmer! Why, even if she were your equal in birth, position, and education you could not do so; for you are to marry Hermia Templeton, you know.” “Indeed, I did not know it! No word or look of love has ever passed between me and Hermia. We like each other well enough as cousins, but _not_ enough to marry—especially as she loves another man and I another woman!” recklessly replied Ronald.