The old gentleman shook his hand warmly, wishing him all the success he desired, and affecting to laugh and jest, while he exacted a like promise from Fairfax, namely, that he should take his girl to Hardbargain, and leave her there to return by dinner time. Frank gave his word very cheerfully. The young couple then mounted and rode away. The old man watched them from the piazza in sorrowful love, murmuring— “God bless them. I wish they _could_ be married. Poor things. If they _do_ love each other so much, or if they _think_ they do, which is quite as bad while it lasts—why, it is but kind to let them have this last little parting comfort of a ride together! And it was well, too—” chuckled the old gentleman—“to tie them up with promises, so that they can’t run away, which they might else be tempted to do in their parting hour. But they will neither of them ever break their word, and I shall have her back safe by dinner time. For it is utterly impossible for them to get married without a license, and it is quite impracticable to get a license this side of L——, or to ride to L—— between this and noon, much less to ride thither and return here in time for dinner! Ah! I have them there! And yet, I am sorry for them, too. Poor things!” All this time Carolyn Clifton had sat like one dead, only with her eyes strained up the mountain bridal-path. In the meantime, Frank and Zuleime pursued their ride. As soon as they were out of sight and hearing of a band of field laborers, employed in cutting grass, and had entered the shady mountain-path, Frank said— “Well, Zuleime, my dearest girl, I spoke to your father—” —“And his answer—I almost dread to hear it—yet I know what it was, too.” Frank nodded his head, and they rode on in silence for some minutes, broken at last by Frank, who suddenly exclaimed— “Zuleime! you bear this so well!” “Frank, you know this is no new thing to me; I have known it, and been prepared for it all along!” replied the girl, with a look of resignation. “Oh, Zuleime! is there no way to prevent it?” “None that I know of, Frank!” “Zuleime! I was in every way his equal—why, when that is the case, and when I was supported by your voice, too—_why_ was I rejected?” The maiden shook her head. “Zuleime, when is this hideous marriage expected to come off—do you know?” “Whenever Major Cabell chooses to demand my hand, I believe!” “Really! Upon my word! He is a personage of tremendous importance! Whenever HE chooses to demand your hand!! Zuleime! that is passing strange! This affair seems then to rest entirely with Major Cabell!!!” “Yes, it does entirely.” “Bless his Majesty. Zuleime, _what hold has that man on your father_?” Zuleime shook her black ringlets mournfully, but did not reply. “Do you know, my dear girl, that I am impressed with the idea that your father does not at heart wish to give you to Major Cabell, but rather yields to a strange power the man holds over him?”