“But my dear, I do. It is the very thing that is in my mind continually. I spoke very strongly not a week ago, and received a solemn promise that you should have new clothes, and diet the same as the rest, and everything I could think of for your good.” “How many times have they promised it, father? And then I am beaten and put on bread and water, for having dared to complain to you. But all that is a trifle, a thing soon over. I must expect that sort of thing, because I have no mother. But, father, what they are trying to do to me is ten times worse than ragged clothes, or starvation, or bodily punishment. They want me to marry a man I detest—an old man, and a bad one!” “My dear, I have promised you, and you know that you can rely on my promises, that you shall not even be allowed to marry a man of doubtful character. I have not been able, my darling Kitty, to do everything I should have liked for you; but one thing is certain—if inquiries prove that this gentleman—I forget his name—is a man of bad life and unkind nature, you shall have nothing to do with him. You know how little I am able now to go into what is called ‘Society,’ and most of my friends are men of my own tastes. But I have taken particular trouble, at the loss of much important time, to ascertain whether your opinion of this person is correct. He is wealthy and of good family, I am told, though that is merely a secondary point. He is likely to have outlived youthful follies; and the difference of age is in your favour.” “But not in his”—interrupted Kitty, with a smile, for which I could have kissed her fifty times, it was so natural, and simple, yet sagacious.