"I merely came to say, Miss Dinwiddie, that there is no longer any restraint upon your movements. You are at liberty to go where you please. Your mother, I learn, has already anticipated the permission for herself. You may say to her, that, in her case also, the prohibition is removed. I will bid you a very good morning." He bowed, and had almost reached the door before Barbara could recover her composure sufficiently to say,-- "Sir,--Captain Penrose,--I beg you not to leave me so abruptly. Pray be seated." The Captain, arch-hypocrite that he was, looked at the clock as if he were closely pushed for time, and replied,-- "My official duties, Miss Dinwiddie, are so pressing--so"---- "But I've something particular to say to you," said Barbara, grown desperate. "Indeed! Then I'm at your service." Barbara pointed to an arm-chair; but the Captain wheeled it up to her, and at the same time pushed along an ottoman for himself. As soon as the lady was seated, he, too, sat. There was a pause, and rather a long one. "Now, Miss Dinwiddie, I shall be happy to hear your communication." "Ahem! I noticed, Sir, as I came in, that you were looking at yonder painting." "Yes; is it not most admirable? 'T is by a Boston artist, I see,--by Curtis." "Indeed! 'T is a picture my father bought only last week. 'T was recommended to him by Mr. Carver; for father does not pretend to be a connoisseur. You think it good?" "Good? 'T is exquisite! Look at the atmosphere over that water. You might feel a cool exhalation from it on a hot day. The misty freshness rolling off, and lit up by the cheery sunlight, is Nature itself. It carries me away--far away--once more to the coast of Labrador, where I spent a summer month in my youth. But, Miss Dinwiddie, how happens it that you condescend, in times like these, to patronize a Yankee artist? When Colonel Pegram comes, you must take down that picture and hide it." Barbara started and blushed. "What do you know, Sir, of Colonel Pegram?" "Nothing, except that he is a fortunate man, unless Rumor belies him." "If you refer, Sir, to that foolish report in regard to myself which was current last winter, I beg to assure you there is no truth in it." "Not _now_, perhaps." "_Never_ shall it be true!" exclaimed Barbara, starting up and pacing the floor. "Excuse me," said the Captain, also rising,--"excuse me, if I have been impertinent on so slight an acquaintance." He had his hat in his hand, and walked towards the door. "Deuse take the fellow! can't he stay patiently here five minutes?" thought Barbara. She dropped the rose she had been holding. The Captain picked it up and offered it. "Keep it, Sir, if you think it worth while," said Barbara,--driven to this incipient impropriety by the vague apprehensions excited by her father's letter. "Thank you," replied the Captain, so taken by surprise that he forgot his military laurels, and showed a faint heart by a blush.