"No, mamma," interrupted Mary; and while she spoke her face was pale and her lips white, but her voice was clear and firm, "I do not require even a few minutes to decide. I have been associated with Captain Fraser daily for a month, and I could not marry him if he were fifty times more rich or more well connected than he is." Mr. Armstrong rose from his chair, his face livid with passion. "Do you dare to oppose my wishes? Am I to be defied by my own daughter? If you do not accept this gentleman who honours you by his preference, I swear----" "Stop! stop, Edward!" and his wife's hand was placed on his arm, "why should you wish to force your child in a matter so important as marriage? Do not say anything now that you may afterwards regret." The effort caused the gentle wife to sink back in her chair, faint with excitement. Mary flew to her mother, and standing by her, she turned to her father, who said in a slightly subdued tone-- "I have a right to expect my own daughter to obey me when it is for her future good." "No, my father," said Mary, who though deathly white was still calm, "you have lost that right. If you had told me of Henry Halford's letter to you openly and candidly, instead of concealing it and sending a refusal without one word of reference to me, I would then have given way to your wishes without a murmur, but now you cannot expect me to do so." She assisted her mother to rise as she ceased speaking, and they left the room together in silence, Mr. Armstrong being too completely stunned by Mary's speech to utter a word in reply. Surprise, not only at Mary's manner, but also at the discovery that she had by some means heard of Mr. Henry Halford's letter respecting herself, subdued for a time his rising anger, and presently he threw himself into an easy-chair and began to reflect. Not for long, however, for Mary, after soothing her mother, and placing her on the sofa near the window, that the sweet calm of the summer evening might bring repose to her startled nerves, returned to the dining-room. Mr. Armstrong scarcely noticed her approach till she threw herself on her knees by his chair, and exclaimed-- "Forgive me, my father, I forgot myself just now; I ought not to have spoken to you as I did; but why, oh! why did you not tell me of Mr. Henry Halford's letter?" The words, the pleading tones for pardon, softened for a time the violent passions of the father; he placed his arm round his daughter, and said-- "My child, how could I consent to such a marriage for you, with nothing but poverty to look forward to, whether as the wife of a schoolmaster or a curate? The young man's letter proved that; and now you are mad enough to refuse an offer that even a duke's daughter might envy; why is this?"