"I did not intend to listen--it was very wrong--but I could not conceal it from you, now it is done," I proceeded hurriedly, "and I have come to say, papa, that I heard what you told Mr. Osborne about Edgar Southcote. I wonder how he dares presume upon us so; I think a true gentleman would be sorry to let us see that he was able to be generous to us; and I hope you will write to him at once, papa, and if it is necessary to say anything from me, let it be that I hope there never will be any communication between us, nor any need for me to tell him what I think in plain words." My father continued to smile upon me, holding my hand, but without speaking--then he said, still with a smile--"This is a very enigmatical message, Hester--I am afraid I must make it plainer; for this young man, your cousin, has not dared nor presumed so much as you seem to think, my love; I am to tell him that we cannot entertain any proposal for an alliance between the rival branches of the house of Southcote, that we beg his overtures may not be repeated, and though sensible of the great honor he does us, we must beg to decline any further correspondence on the subject--is that what you mean, Hester? I think that is about as much as we are entitled to say." I was scarcely pleased at the playful manner in which my father now treated a matter which he evidently had not looked on in a playful light a few hours ago; but, at the same time, his tone made me ashamed of my own vehemence, and I assented hastily. He still held my hand, and his face became quite grave--he seemed to see that I was surprised, and wanted explanation of what he had said. "I am afraid we are thinking of this young man with a little bitterness, Hester," said my father, raising his lofty head, "which is not very creditable to us, I fear, my love;--that he has claimed and won what is justly his own, can be no wrong or offence to us. It is rather my part to thank him that he has set me right, than to imply that he has injured me. This last is by no means a dignified assumption, Hester, and it is more or less implied in every harsh judgment we give against your cousin--whereas he is simply indifferent to us, and in rejecting this proposal, I do it with civility, you perceive, just as I would any proposal which was distasteful, from whomsoever it came." This speech of my father's impressed me very greatly; I left him holding my head erect, yet feeling humbled. Yes, I had been very bitter in my heart against Edgar Southcote--I had felt resentment against him, strong and violent, as the supplanter of my father; but it was mean to dislike him on such a ground--it was what Alice called "a poor pride;" yet I confess, it was somewhat difficult to rise, in anything but words, to the altitude of the other pride, and say "he is quite indifferent to me--he has done me no wrong--it is not possible that I can have any grudge against my cousin."