I was so interested in my discoveries that I forgot altogether my own critical position, the impracticability of escape till Frank had gone to sleep, the chance of arousing him as I went out, or, more alarming still, the awful possibility of his lying awake all night. When morning dawned, concealment could no longer be preserved, and what to do then? I meditated a bold stroke. To rush from my hiding-place, blow out both the candles before my host had recovered his surprise, and then run for it. Thrice was I on the eve of this perilous enterprise. Thrice my courage failed me at the critical moment. The fourth time I think I should have gone, when a knock at the door arrested my attention, and Frank's "Come in" welcomed a visitor whose voice I well knew to be that of Cousin John. The plot began to thicken. It was impossible to get away now. "Lovell," said John, in an unusually grave voice, "I told you I wanted to speak a word with you, and this is the only time I can make sure of finding you alone." Frank was busy huddling his treasures back into the writing-case. "Drive on, old fellow," said he, "there's lots of time; it's not two o'clock yet." "Lovell," proceeded John, "you are an old friend of mine, and I have a great regard for you, but I have a duty to perform, and I must go through with it. Point-blank, on your honour as a gentleman, I ask you, _Are you_ or _are you not_ engaged to be married to Miss Molasses?" Frank coloured, hesitated, looked confused, and then got angry. "No intimacy can give you a right to ask such a question," he replied, talking very fast and excitedly: "you take an unwarrantable liberty, both with her and me. Who told you I was going to be married at all? or what business is it of yours whether I am married or not?" John began to get heated too, but he looked very determined. "I am sorry you should take it thus," he replied, "for you force me to come at once to the point. As the nearest relation and natural guardian of my cousin, Miss Coventry, I must ask your intention with regard to that young lady. I have often remarked you paid her great attention, but it was not till to-day that I heard your name coupled with hers, and a doubt expressed as to which of the ladies I have mentioned you meant to honour with your preference. I don't want to quarrel with you, Frank," added John, softening, "I don't want to mistrust your good feelings or your honour. Perhaps you don't know her as well as I do; perhaps you can't appreciate her value like me. Many men would give away their lives for her--would think no sacrifice too dear at which to purchase her regard. Believe me, Frank, she's worth anything. If you have proposed to her, as I have reason to think you must have done, confide in me; I will smooth all difficulties; I will arrange everything for you both. God knows I love her better than anything on earth; but _her_ happiness is my first consideration, and if she likes you, Frank, she shall marry you."