No; let my father seek another heir. Therefore devise with me how we may fly, Whither to go, and what to bear with us: For by this heaven, now at our sorrows pale, Say what thou canst, I’ll go along with thee. --Shakspere. Mark Wilton, during his last interviews with Lotte Clinton, and in the intervals that occurred between them, passed through a severe trial of his love. All the unfavourable points in the circumstances revolving round Lotte served, instead of cooling the ardent flame kindled in his breast, to make it burn more fiercely. They were so many small impediments which, apparently calculated to stop the progress of his passion, actually extended its area, and added to its depth. Mark determined after the last interview with her to marry her. He made his way down to Harleydale, absorbed in the purpose of bringing his father round to his way of thinking. He expected a very angry opposition, and he left London in a state of preparation for it. He commenced with a fierce altercation with a cab-driver, quarrelled with the money-taker at the railway station, and with fiery eyes and spluttering words informed the guard of the train that he would report him, because that functionary refused to admit him into a carriage already filled. Fortunately the compartment into which he did defiantly thrust himself had no other passenger, and he was solus all the way to the station nearest to Harley-dale. He consequently, quite undisturbed, vehemently argued the case, every inch of the way, with an imaginary obstinate, obdurate parent, who was most absurdly hostile to his views. By the time he reached Harleydale he had exhausted the discussion, triumphantly defeated the arguments of the phantom father, extorted from him a consent to the union between himself and Lotte, and had got so far as to hear the village bells ringing a joyous peal. He was awakened to the reality of the case by ascending to the library at the Hall, and meeting his father just as he was issuing from it to place himself unconsciously within the reach and power of Mr. Chewkle. Mark Wilton’s impetuous nature would brook no delay in bringing the subject nearest to his heart to an issue. The life he had passed on the islands of the South Pacific and in other wild regions, amid unlettered, impulsive men, had communicated to his character much of that hasty decision and impatience of delay peculiar to those who mix in the exciting scenes which abound in the warm climes of the tropics. He could not have endured to pass the day patiently away; dined with an appetite; discoursed on different topics with his father, and ultimately parted with him for the night with a formal notice that in the morning he wished to confer with and consult him upon an important subject connected with his settlement in life.