“She is actually going to confess the cotton-spinner to me, and tell me I’m in the way, I do believe! Cool hands women are, and no mistake!” thought Coverdale; he only said, however, “Pray go on.” “The fact is,” resumed Alice, with a faltering voice, “my brother Tom informed me (you must not be angry with the poor boy, for he did it out of regard for you) that you--that is that my father and you differed about some political question after dinner yesterday, and that my father was so carried away by the subject as to become injudiciously warm, and, from Tom’s account, personal, and that his observations annoyed you. Now, I am so very sorry this should have occurred, for he had formed such a high opinion of you, and Arthur was so much pleased to see how well you got on with him--a point on which he appeared particularly anxious.” (Coverdale bit his lip, and cut off a thistle’s head viciously with his cane.) “But, if you could be so very good as to overlook anything my father may have said, it would make me--I mean it would make Arthur, and--and--all of us so much happier.” “My dear Miss Hazlehurst,” began Harry, vehemently, “how very kind of you to trouble yourself about me! I can assure you I am most anxious to say or do anything to regain Mr. Hazlehurst’s good opinion. I know I made him rather an impertinent answer; but really I was so unprepared for such an attack; and then, to make matters worse, that old idiot, Mr. Crane--that is,” he continued, suddenly recollecting to whom he was speaking, and turning crimson as he did so, “I beg your pardon for speaking so disrespectfully of him to _you_; I really forgot--I am certainly losing my senses!” With a blush as bright, though not quite so deep coloured as that of Coverdale, Alice, turning away her head, replied: “Mr. Crane’s only claim on my respect is, that he is my father’s friend; if I must own the truth, I do not myself consider him very wise.” “His _only_ claim did you say!” exclaimed Harry, earnestly. “Oh, Miss Hazlehurst--Alice--pardon me if I ask you to deal openly with me; am I indeed wrong in supposing that you are engaged, or about to become so, to Mr. Crane?” “Oh yes!” was the hurried reply; “such a fate would render me most miserable.”