"Stay, madam," said Hargrave, with manly honesty, "I owe you an explanation for my strange inconsistency, and I am ready to give it at once. Mabel Lesly and I were lovers from children, till we parted six years ago; she then refused to be my wife, because she disapproved of my ideas on religion, and, with much violence on my side, we parted. The obstacle is now removed, and she will be mine. Why I delayed the explanation till this night, and why I waited to see her tried to the very last, is a matter of which my feelings must alone judge." "Whatever your feelings may be, you certainly have no right to trifle with those of my daughter." "_I_ trifle with your daughter's feelings!" said Hargrave, as his dark eye flashed fire, and made her almost quail before it. "There is not one word, or look, or action of mine that will bear such an interpretation. I should despise myself had I been guilty of such meanness. I might as well be accused of paying attention to all four of your daughters; I am grieved that you should think me worthy of such an accusation. I hear Mr. Villars, let me ask him--let me clear myself at once." "No, no," said Mrs. Villars, in alarm, throwing herself before him, "say nothing to him, and I will not say another word about it." "But, if I have done so, it is fit that her father should know it, and redress her injuries. Let me call him." He attempted to pass her, but she held him back, and burst into tears. "Not for worlds," she said; "he will never forget it." "Then you retract what you said," he replied, sternly. "Yes, yes, I do," she cried. And Hargrave walked back to where he had before been standing, and instantly recovered his good humour. Mrs. Villars soon followed her daughters, who had retreated, from different reasons, before; while he, late as it was, went down to the study, where he found Mr. Villars, and fully acquainted him with the facts and feelings which had led to this unlooked-for change in Mabel's life--over which he most heartily rejoiced.