Mamma, who came in at the moment out of the garden, started with amazement to see the flushed cheeks of Marian, and Mr Endicott, who stood in an appealing attitude, with the most crestfallen and astonished face. Marian ran from the room in an instant, scarcely able to restrain her tears of vexation and annoyance, till she was out of sight. Mrs Atheling placed a chair for her daughter’s suitor very solemnly. “What has happened?--what have you been saying, Mr Endicott?” said the indignant mother. “I have only been offering to your daughter’s acceptance all that a man has to offer,” said the American, with a little real dignity. “It is over; the young lady has made her own election--she rejects _me_! It is well! it is but another depth of human suffering opening to _his_ feet who must tread them all! But I have nothing to apologise for. Madam, farewell!” “Oh, stay a moment! I am very sorry--she is so young. I am sure she did not mean to offend you,” said Mrs Atheling, with distress. “She is engaged, Mr Endicott. Miss Willsie knew of it. I am sure I am grieved if the foolish child has answered you unkindly; but she is engaged.” “So I am aware, madam,” said Mr Endicott, gloomily; “may it be for her happiness--may no poetic retribution attend her! As for me, my art is my lifelong consolation. This, even, is for the benefit of the world; do not concern yourself for me.” But Mrs Atheling hastened up-stairs when he was gone, to reprove her daughter. To her surprise, Marian defended herself with spirit. “He was impertinent, mamma,” said Marian; “he said if I had known he cared for me, I would not have been engaged. He! when everybody knows I never would speak to him. It was he who insulted me!” So Mr Endicott’s English romance ended, after all, in a paragraph which, when the time comes, we shall feel a melancholy pleasure in transcribing from the eloquent pages of the _Mississippi Gazette_. CHAPTER XXV. GOOD FORTUNE.