“Oh, father, please, _please_ don’t deny him!” And she was gone before the startled and perplexed John could gather his scattered senses and ask what she meant. Early the next morning Ronald Bruce arose, dressed in haste and hurried downstairs to seek the promised interview with his host. He found John in the parlor waiting for him. “Good-morning, Mr. Bruce! Fine, bright morning, sir, though we had heavy frost last night. Hope you slept well, sir,” said Palmer. “Thanks, yes, very well,” replied the young man, telling an involuntary fib, for he had not slept a wink and had not meant to say so. “I’ll just turn the key of this door, and we’ll be safe from interruption,” said John, suiting the action to the word. Then placing a chair for his guest and taking another for himself, he sat down and said: “Now I am ready to hear all that you have got to say, Lieutenant; but I warn you that I don’t know much more about crops and stocks than you do yourself.” “‘Crops and stocks!’” echoed the young man in surprise. “Yes! Wasn’t that what you wished to consult me upon?” “Bless me, no!” “What was it, then?” inquired Palmer in surprise. Young Bruce hesitated in some confusion. The fact that the father-in-law-elect seemed so utterly unprepared to hear the honor that was intended him, had the natural effect of making the proposal doubly embarrassing to the suitor. He paused for a few moments longer and then broke the ice suddenly by saying: “Mr. Palmer, I love your daughter Emolyn, and I have reason to know that she likes me. I came here to pray you to make us both happy by consenting to our marriage.” If I were to tell you that John’s hair stood on end, I should not much exaggerate. His eyes fairly started from his head as he stared at the speaker, and faltered forth: “Now look a here, young gentleman, look a here! Quiet yourself like and think a bit. You _can’t_ know what you’re a-talking about!” “Yes, I do!” impatiently replied the young man, giving his dark head an irritable shake. “Well, then, maybe I didn’t understand you right,” said John helplessly. “Then I will repeat what I said. I asked you if you would do me the honor of giving me your daughter for a wife,” repeated Ronald. “Dear me! Dear me! What a pity! I never thought of such a thing! I am very sorry,” muttered John in a meditative way. Ronald Bruce sat watching and waiting until he lost the last remnant of patience and broke forth with: “Mr. Palmer, do you understand my question _now_?” “Yes—yes! Don’t get excited! I know what you said! And I know, too, what my girl meant when she asked me last night not to deny you! Lord help me! I feel awful cut up about it!” sighed John, running his fingers through his shock of “pepper and salt” hair. The young officer looked somewhat fallen in his selfesteem as he gazed upon the overseer, who evidently did not feel the honor conferred upon him as he should have done, and he inquired somewhat sulkily: