My father, an honorable British officer of the old school, perceived how things were with me. "My son," he said one clay, "there are two courses open to you. You have nothing but your profession. Your education and the premium on your admittance to the office of the great man for whom you work have been my provision for you: the little property I have to leave must support your sisters. You cannot under such circumstances address Miss Leare. You must either go back at once to your work in England and forget this episode, or you may go out to America and see her father. You can tell him you have nothing on which to support his daughter, and ask if he will give you leave to address the young lady. No son of mine, situated like yourself, shall offer himself in any other way to an heiress whose father is three thousand miles away, and who is supposed to have two millions of francs for her dowry." I saw he was right, but, forlorn as the hope was of any appeal to Mr. Leare, I would not relinquish it. I resolved to go out to America and see him, and wrote to England to secure letters of introduction to the chief engineers in the United States and Canada. Meantime, my father proposed that we should go together and call upon Mrs. and Miss Leare. Hermione received us in the boudoir, looking like a bruised lily: her mother came in afterward. "We are going right straight home," she said, "the moment we can get money to get away. I have written to Mr. Leare that he must find some means to send me some." "I am glad to hear you say this, madame," said my father. "My son has just made up his mind to go out to America and seek employment on one of your railways." Hermione looked up with a question in her eyes: so did her mother. "Why, Mr. Farquhar, that will suit us exactly," cried Mrs. Leare.--"Hermione, won't it be lovely if Mr. Farquhar takes care of us on the voyage?--You will engage your passage--won't you?--in the same steamer as we do?--No one was ever so good a squire of dames as your son, Captain Farquhar. Hermione and I shall never forget our obligations to him." "No, madame," said my father; and he got up and walked to the fireplace, where in his embarrassment he laid his hand upon the ornamented box which held the cigarettes of the fast lady. She rose up too and went hastily toward him, anxious he should not surprise her little frailty. "The truth is, madame," whispered my father, who never could restrain his tongue from any kindly indiscretion, "the poor fellow is suffering too much from the attractions of Miss Leare. He has nothing but his profession, and I tell him he must not dare to address her in her father's absence." "My dear captain, what does that matter? And I believe Hermione would have him too," said her mother. "Disparity of means--" began my father.