leave the room, and a general order in regard to the entire alteration of his conduct, and abnegation of his present opinions on all subjects, human and divine. Returning to the breakfast-room in the frame of mind naturally consequent upon such a reception, he discovered D’Almayne comfortably lounging in an easy-chair, and perusing a handsomely bound copy of the _Pleasures of Memory_. Glancing up as Hazlehurst entered, he observed coolly--“I need not ask you how it has gone, _mon ami_, your face tells me.” Hazlehurst strode impatiently up and down the apartment; then stopping short in front of his companion, he exclaimed abruptly--“Try your plan, whatever it may be; for common sense is thrown away upon a man so prejudiced and positive as my father has shown himself to be; and common patience cannot bear the irritating speeches he makes, when all the time one feels that one is striving for the right, and that he is totally and entirely wrong.” “You are warm, _mon cher_,” was the calm reply. “Papas have been wrong-headed time out of mind, and will probably continue so till time shall have passed away, together with all other sublunary weights and measures; so why afflict yourself at the inevitable? But I will now proceed without delay to try my eloquence upon the dear, rejected Mr. Crane--a--by the way, you must give me one promise. ‘On their own merits modest men are dumb;’ now my modesty is so outrageously sensitive, that I am not only dumb myself, but require my friends to be so likewise; in plain English, if I do this thing to oblige you, you must promise me to keep my share in the transaction a secret; the change must appear to emanate from the united kind regards and amiable self-sacrifice of your father and Mr. Crane.” Seeing Arthur hesitate, he continued--“Without this assurance, you must excuse my declining to interfere.” “Be it as you will then,” began Arthur. As he spoke the door flew open, and Alice, eager and tearful, hurried in, exclaiming,--“You have seen my father! Can it be true that he is so cruel as to refuse his consent. He has just written me such a dreadful note, ordering me not to quit my room!” Here, catching sight of D’Almayne, she stopped short in confusion and alarm. That individual hastened to relieve her by walking to the door; but as he passed Arthur he whispered, “You may make an exception in your sister’s favour. I absolve you from your vow of secrecy as far as she is concerned. I am a tender-hearted fellow, and beauty in tears is always too many for me.” As he spoke, he left the apartment, and closed the door behind him.