"I'll not get along," exclaimed Miss Bettina, her face darkening. "I attempt to say a little word to you for your good, for your own interest, and you tell me 'to get along!' How dare you, Caroline Davenal?" "Oh, Aunt Bettina! I said we should get along." "I don't know that you would get along if you married Mark Cray. I don't like Mark Cray. I did not think"---- "Why don't you like him, aunt?" "I don't know," replied Miss Bettina. "He is too light and careless. I did not think it a wise step of your uncle's to take him into partnership; but it was not my province to interfere. The Crays brought it to nothing, you know. Lived like princes for a few years, and when affairs came to be looked into on Mr. Cray's death, the money was gone." "That was not Mark's fault," returned Caroline, indignantly. "It ought to be no reason for your disliking _him_, Aunt Bettina." "It gives one prejudices, you see. He may be bringing it to the same in his own case before his life's over." "You might as well say the same of Oswald," resentfully spoke Caroline. "No; Oswald's different. He is worth a thousand of Mark. Don't think of Mark, Caroline. You might do so much better: better in all ways." "I don't care to do better," was the rebellious answer. And then, half-frightened at it, repenting of its insolence, poor Caroline burst into tears. She felt very indignant at the disparagement of Mark. Fortunately for her, Miss Davenal mistook the words. "We don't care that you should do better! Of course we care. What are you thinking of, child? Your uncle studies your interests as much as he would study Sara's." "More!" impulsively interrupted the doctor, who was pacing the room, his hands under his coat-tails. "I might feel less scrupulous in opposing Sara's inclination." "You hear, Caroline! The doctor opposes this inclination of yours!" Caroline cast a look to him, a sort of helpless appeal: not only that he would _not_ oppose it, but that he would set right Miss Davenal. "I don't oppose it, Bettina: I don't go so far as that. I recommend them to wait. In a year or two"---- A loud knock at the hall-door startled Dr. Davenal. Knocks there were pretty frequent--loud ones too; but this was loud and long as a peal of thunder. And it startled somebody besides the doctor. CHAPTER VII. AN INTERRUPTION. That somebody was Neal. Neal's mind was by far too composed a one to be ruffled by any sort of shock, and Neal's nerves were in first-rate order. It happened, however, that Neal was rather unpleasantly near to the front door at that moment, and the sudden sound, so sharp and long, did make him start.