The tears gathered in Mabel’s eyes—she could not help it; drop after drop they came, falling upon the marble table, until John Jr., who saw more than he pretended, came to her side, asking “why she wept.” Mabel was beginning to be terribly afraid of him, and for a moment she hesitated, but at length, summoning all her courage, she wound her arms about his neck, and in low, earnest tones said, “Tell me truly, do you wish to marry me?” “And suppose I do not?” he asked, with the same stony composure. Stepping backward, Mabel stood proudly erect before him, and answered, “Then would I die rather than wed you!” There was something in her appearance and attitude peculiarly attractive to John Jr. Never in his life had he felt so much interested in her, and drawing her toward him and placing his arm around her, he said, gently, “Be calm, little Meb, you are nervous to-night. Of course I wish you to be my wife, else I had not asked you. Are you satisfied?” The joyous glance of the dark eyes lifted so confidingly to his, was a sufficient answer, and as if conscious of the injustice he was about to do her, John Jr. bent for an instant over her slight figure, mentally resolving, that so far as in him lay he would be true to his trust. There was a knock at the door, and Mrs. Livingstone herself looked in, pale, anxious, and expectant. Mr. Douglass, who was among the invited guests, had arrived, and _must_ have an interview with John Jr. ere the ceremony. ’Twas in vain she attempted politely to waive his request. He _would_ see him, and distracted with fear, she had at last conducted him into the upper hall, and out upon an open veranda, where in the moonlight he awaited the coming of the bridegroom, who, with some curiosity, approached him, asking what he wanted. “It may seem strange to you,” said Mr. Douglass, “that I insist upon seeing you now, when another time might do as well, but I believe in having a fair understanding all round.” “Meddling old rascal!” exclaimed Mrs. Livingstone, who, of course, was within hearing, bending her ears so as not to lose a word. But in this she was thwarted, for drawing nearer to John Jr., Mr. Douglass said, so low as to prevent her catching anything further, save the sound of his voice: “I do not accuse you of being at all mercenary, but such things have been, and there has something come to my knowledge to-day, which I deem it my duty to tell you, so that hereafter you can neither blame me nor Mabel.” “What is it?” asked John Jr., and Mr. Douglass replied, “To be brief, then, Mabel’s large fortune is, with the exception of a few thousands, of which I have charge, all swept away by the recent failure of the Planters’ Bank, in which it was invested. I heard of it this morning, and determined on telling you, knowing that if you loved her for herself, it would make no difference, while if you loved her for her money, it were far better to stop here.”