half-amusement with the circumstances of his wooing, he had come suddenly, through Durant, to have an angry and wounded consciousness of how it would appear to the world. Even the Eagles’, what must they think? Arthur resolved hastily not to continue here, to separate himself at least from criticism. Certainly Durant, thus far, had done him nothing but harm. He had opened his eyes, as the eyes of Adam were opened in the garden, and a hot, resentful shame, not of his Nancy or his projected marriage, but of the wrong and ridiculous ideas people might entertain about them, had risen up in his mind. Nothing could have been a worse preparation for the visit which Mr. Eagles himself was coming upstairs to make him. Mr. Eagles felt that he had already delayed much too long, and put himself in the wrong by his non-interference; but Durant’s visit had broken the ice for him, and he had made up his mind to delay no longer. Arthur had scarcely lighted his candles and thrown himself into his easy-chair by the fire, when the master of the house knocked at his door. “Mr. Eagles!” he cried, with angry consternation, as he saw him. Of course, he knew what was coming. He cast a quick, instinctive glance at a portmanteau which was in a corner. He would pack it up at once, and be gone. “I have seen nothing of you, Curtis, for some weeks,” said Mr. Eagles, abruptly. “I have been remiss in seeing you on the subject. Men come here, you are aware, to read, not for other pursuits; but you have not been reading.” “No; you have reason to find fault,” said Arthur, with candour. “I acknowledge it. And the fact is, I am on the eve of going away. I, too, ought to have seen you about it before, but I have been occupied.” “Evidently--and how occupied?” said the little man, sternly. “I have nothing to do with your morals, Mr. Curtis. I didn’t undertake to look after your conduct.” “Conduct--morals!” cried the young man. “Yes, Sir!” said the “coach,” in a voice of thunder, “conduct and morals. Do you think it shows either morals or conduct to shirk entirely the object for which you were received under my roof, and to give all your attention to a love affair--an intrigue?” “How dare you use such a word?” cried Arthur; but the effect of his indignation was spoiled by the fact that his opponent was too voluble and energetic to give him his turn in speaking, or anything more than just a momentary opportunity to insert, edgeways, half a word. “This is not what you came here for,” said Mr. Eagles. “Your father has a right to turn upon me, and ask me what I mean by it; and all the fathers of all the men have a right to drag me over the coals for countenancing such misconduct. Parents are intolerable, but here they might have some reason. I have done wrong in letting you remain under my roof.” “That is easily managed,” cried Arthur, with a rush, seizing upon the portmanteau. “You shall very soon be relieved of my presence.”