“No, I don’t,” said the captain, gallantly offering ’Lena a chair. “My business with Miss Rivers concerns herself.” “I am here, sir, to answer any proper question,” said ’Lena, proudly, at the same time declining the proffered seat. “There’s an air worthy of a queen,” thought the captain, and determining to make his business known at once, he arose, and turning toward Mrs. Livingstone, Durward and Carrie, whom he considered his audience, he commenced: “What I am about to say may seem strange, but the fact is, I want a wife. I’ve lived alone long enough. I waited for Anna eighteen years, and now’s she gone. Everything is in readiness for the bridal; the guests are invited; nothing wanting but the bride. Now if I _could_ find a substitute.” “Not in me,” muttered Carrie, drawing nearer to Durward, while with a sarcastic leer the captain continued: “Don’t refuse before you are asked, Miss Livingstone. I do not aspire to the honor of your hand, but I do ask Miss Rivers to be my wife—here before you all. She shall live like a princess—she and her grandmother both. Come, what do you say? Many a poor girl would jump at the chance.” The rich blood which usually dyed ’Lena’s cheek was gone, and pale as the marble mantel against which she leaned, she answered, proudly, “I would sooner die than link my destiny with one who could so basely deceive my cousin, making her believe it was her betrothed husband whom he saw in Washington instead of his uncle! Marry you? Never, if I beg my bread from door to door!” “Noble girl!” came involuntarily from the lips of Durward, who had held his breath for her answer, and who now glanced triumphantly at Mrs. Livingstone, whose surmises were thus proved incorrect. The captain’s self-pride was touched, that a poor, humble girl should refuse him with his half million. A sense of the ridiculous position in which he was placed maddened him, and in a violent rage he replied, “You won’t, hey? What under heavens have you hung around me so for, sticking yourself in between me and Anna when you knew you were not wanted?” “I did it, sir, at Anna’s request, to relieve her—and for nothing else.” “And was it at her request that you went alone to Sunnyside on that dark, rainy night?” chimed in Mrs. Livingstone. “No, madam,” said ’Lena, turning toward her aunt. “I had in vain implored of you to save her from a marriage every way irksome to her, when in her right mind, but you would not listen, and I resolved to appeal to the captain’s better nature. In this I failed, and then I wrote to Mr. Everett, with the result which you see.”