"I am not alone. The dog is with me, and he would not let any one injure or even annoy me. See! if I had not now his head on my lap and my hands around his neck, he would fly at you even. Easy--easy, Joshua, good fellow!" she added, softly caressing the guardian who was showing his teeth and muttering low thunder. "I hope I do not annoy you. Miss Force," he pleaded, in a persuasive tone, as he bent nearer to her. "If I speak the truth, Col. Anglesea, I must say that you certainly do," replied the girl, drawing the short ears of her dog through her fingers and watching the process as if it required care. "In what way am I so unfortunate?" "You know very well; you follow me wherever I go, and intrude on me when I wish to be alone. I am sorry to speak so to my dear father's guest; but you should remember that you are his guest and not his daughter's, and should give him a little of your society, instead of pressing it all upon me!" "The steel must follow the magnet! The moth must fly to the flame! And I, beautiful Odalite, must follow you! I have no choice." "You are talking absurdities, quite unworthy of a man of your age, Col. Anglesea," replied Odalite, without looking up, and unconsciously pulling her dog's ears so hard that even Joshua's great patience gave way, first in a deprecating whine that produced no effect; and then in a despairing howl that quickly brought his mistress to a sense of her cruelty. She apologized to the victim so earnestly and caressed him so tenderly that Joshua grew ashamed of his want of doghood, and began to assure his mistress, in eloquent dumb show, that it was all a misapprehension on her part; that he wasn't hurt at all; that she never did hurt him and never could; that, in face, he was howling at--well, at the squirrel over yonder on the tree; or, yes, at the turkey buzzard flying overhead. Meanwhile Col Anglesea looked on in disgust. "And do you think, my dear young lady, that this childish play is quite worthy of your years?" he inquired. "Yes! quite!" she answered, gravely. "Will you listen to me for a moment?" "I would rather not, Col. Anglesea; but perhaps, after all, I had better hear what you have to say and get it over. Then, probably, I shall have some peace." He seated himself on the railing of the bridge, above and a little behind her. And then he made an ardent declaration of his love and an offer of his hand. Odalite grew pale and cold as she listened to him, not in fear, but in wrath, disgust and abhorrence. "Has my father authorized you to speak to me on this subject, Col. Anglesea?" she inquired, in a freezing tone, without looking at him. "No, my dearest one; but your mother has." Odalite shook her head with derisive incredulity. Col. Anglesea continued as if he had not seen her gesture: "And I want your authority to speak to your father of these my most cherished hopes."