“There's a ring at the bell,” said Dalton, perhaps not sorry to cut short a discussion in which his own doubts and fears were often at variance with his words; for while opposing Nelly with all his might, he was frequently forced to coincide secretly with that he so stoutly resisted. Vanity alone rose above every other motive, and even hardened his heart against separation and absence from his favorite child, vanity to think that his daughter would be the admired beauty in the salons of the great and highly born; that she would be daily moving in a rank the most exalted; that his dear Kate would be the attraction of courts, the centre of adulation wherever she went. So blinded was he by false reasoning, that he actually fancied himself a martyr to his daughter's future advancement, and that this inveterate egotism was a high and holy self-denial! “My worst enemy never called me selfish,” was the balm that he ever laid on his chafed spirit, and always with success. It would, however, have been rather the part of friend, than of enemy, to have whispered that selfishness was the very bane and poison of his nature. It was his impulse in all the wasteful extravagance of his early life; it was his motive in all the struggles of his adversity. To sustain a mock rank, to affect a mock position, to uphold a mock standard of gentility, he was willing to submit to a thousand privations of his children and himself; and to gratify a foolish notion of family pride, he was ready to endure anything, even to separation from all he held dearest. “Lady Hester's courier has come for the answer to her note, papa,” said Nelly, twice over, before Dalton heard her, for he was deep sunk in his own musings. “Let him come in and have a glass of wine,” said Dalton. “I 'd like to ask him a few questions about these people.” “Oh, papa!” whispered Nelly, in a tone at once so reproachful, that the old man colored and looked away. “I meant about what time they were to start on the journey,” said he, confusedly. “Lady Hester told us they should leave this to-morrow, sir.” “Short notice for us. How is Kate to have all her clothes packed, and everything arranged? I don't think that is treating us with much respect, Nelly.” “They have waited four days for our decision, papa remember that.” “Ay, to be sure. I was forgetting that; and she came every day to press the matter more and more; and there was no end to the note-writing besides. I must say that nothing could beat their politeness. It was a mighty nice attention, the old man coming himself to call here; and a fine, hale, good-looking man he is! a better figure than ever his son will be. I don't much like Mr. George, as they call him.” “Somewhat colder, and more reserved, I think, than the other,” said Nelly. “But about this answer, papa?”