“Mr. Sutherland, in every exigency of your life, I pray you to consider me as your friend, ready always to serve you with counsel or assistance of any kind I have fancied that since the unexpected rencounter of last evening, you might have something to propose; or, rather, that you might _wish_ to propose, yet be withheld by some exquisite sense of honour and delicacy. I entreat you now to waive all considerations save those of truth, and speak freely to me.” “I had something to say to you, Colonel Ashley, and, under the circumstances, the approach of the subject was, as you rightly inferred, extremely difficult to me. I thank you for having opened the way,” said the young man, _totally misapprehending him_; then, after a moment’s hesitation, he went on to say—“You have doubtless surmised the nature of the communication I had to make to you. It is, that I love your niece, Miss Vivian; I have told her as much within a few hours past, and have her permission to entreat your sanction of our engagement.” Colonel Ashley sprang from his chair, shoving it behind him, and stood gazing with astonishment upon the young man—with simple astonishment, unmixed with regret or resentment. At last— “How long has this gone on, sir, without my knowledge?” “I fancied it was _not_ without your knowledge, sir. Our association has been very open. I fancied, from your own words, that you expected the communication I have just made,” said Mark, with a surprise almost equal to his own. “No, sir, no! my words referred to a totally different matter, which I shall explain presently,” replied the old gentleman, resuming his seat, with a somewhat changed manner. “So you have addressed Miss Vivian?” Mark bowed. “And won her consent to be yours?” Another bow of assent. “Humph! well—so I have been truly warned, after all! Pray, Mr. Sutherland, have you ever tried to instil into the minds of my sons, your pupils, any of your own opinions in respect to slavery?” “I have never named the subject to them, sir. I have endeavoured to cultivate in them principles of truth, justice, and mercy, and left the application of those principles to that subject to time and circumstances.” “Humph! Have you ever convened my coloured people, and preached insurrection to them?” “Sir!” exclaimed Mark, with the indignant blood purpling his forehead. “Nay, nay! don’t look so. God knows, if you had done so, I should have sought no vengeance, young man.” “Colonel Ashley, I am neither mad nor unprincipled, however I may have been misrepresented to you.” “I believe it, Mark! I quite believe it. I will not examine you upon the _fourth charge_! Heaven knows what demonstrations of indignation would meet my question, should I ask you if, poet-wise, you had endeavoured to awaken in Mrs. Ashley’s memory any sentimental reminiscences of the past!” Mark smiled.