“Then it’s high time it was; I hope you’ll talk to her about it to-day, and try to convince her of the reasonableness of the course I have recommended.” “I should rather not undertake it, sir. I am not at all sure that hers is not the right view of the matter.” “Come, now, don’t be a fool, Espy!” returned his father angrily. “You’d be standing amazingly in your own light, if you mean to marry the girl; it’s a fine property, and would give you just the start in life you need. Why, you might give up studying for a profession and devote yourself at once to your beloved art,” he added, with an unpleasant laugh. The young man flushed deeply. “I should despise myself, sir, if I could act from such motives,” he said, forcing himself to speak quietly, though the hot blood coursed through his veins. “Your father doesn’t mean that he wants you to marry for money, or to do anything dishonest to get it,” interposed Mrs. Alden. “All he asks is that you will persuade Floy not to throw away what we all know was meant for her.” “No, I’ll take back that request,” said the elder gentleman. “Leave her to me; that’s all I ask.” “I shall not try to influence her one way or the other,” said Espy. “But, father, be patient with her if she can’t see things just as you do. She’s almost heart-broken already, poor child!” This conversation had taken place at the breakfast-table, and immediately on the conclusion of the meal Espy hastened to Floy to learn how she was in health, determined to save her from an encounter with his father until she felt quite equal to it. He found her free from pain, calm and quiet in manner, though with an expression of deep sadness in her large dark eyes and about the lines of her mobile mouth. She was strangely changed from the careless, light-hearted creature of a week ago. Sorrow and bereavement had done the work of years, and the child of yesterday had become a self-poised, self-reliant woman. She had spent some hours that morning in earnest thought, asking wisdom and strength from Him who has declared Himself in a peculiar sense the “Father of the fatherless,” and in searching His Word for direction; and now her mind was fully made up. Espy told her of his father’s intended call, and asked if she would see him, adding, “Don’t hesitate to decline, Floy. You can guess his errand.” “Yes,” she said, sighing slightly, “and I cannot follow his wishes, because it would be doing violence to my conscience. But I will hear all he has to say. Ah,” she added, tears filling her eyes, “it is hard to be compelled to do what vexes and angers those you love and would fain please rather than yourself! Espy, will you turn against me?” “Never, never, my poor child! I will stand by you through everything.” The door opened, and the elder Mr. Alden came in. “Ah, good-morning, my dear child,” he said, taking Floy’s hand. “Glad to see you about again! should have been here before, but Espy insisted that you were better let alone.”