‘Surely,’ he said with an incredulous smile, ‘Miss Crampton will not dream of opposing your wishes in this particular, when so much depends upon her obedience. What can she see in this young man to attract her, above others of his kind; she who has a crowd of admirers wherever she goes, and is the acknowledged beauty of Hampstead? I believe, Crampton, that you are alarming yourself without cause. Miss Crampton means nothing serious. She is merely amusing herself with the sight of young Walcheren’s infatuation for her.’ ‘It’s more than that,’ returned the older man; ‘I’ve forbidden the girl to dance with him when she meets him out, or to receive him here during my absence. And now, her mother tells me, she met them riding together yesterday afternoon, and has intercepted a letter from him to Jenny, in which he writes as though they were promised to each other. What am I to do? I can’t be always at my daughter’s elbow, and her mother can’t go galloping all over the country after her. It is disgraceful to think that a young lady of twenty can’t be trusted to behave herself properly as soon as she is out of her parents’ sight!’ ‘Don’t you think you are making rather a mountain out of a molehill?’ inquired Henry Hindes, in the same calm way. ‘Doubtless, Miss Crampton is young and thoughtless, and, if I may venture to say so--perhaps just a wee bit spoilt; but is that any reason that you should suspect her of impropriety? And, after all, is there anything wrong or unusual in a lovely girl being followed and persecuted by her admirers? Perhaps, if the truth were known, Miss Crampton might be as well pleased to get rid of Mr Walcheren as you would be.’ At this juncture, Mrs Crampton took heart of grace to put in her oar. ‘Oh, thank you, dear Mr Hindes!’ she exclaimed. ‘I am sure you are right. That is, I feel certain that Jenny cares no more for Mr Walcheren than for anyone else. She is a trifle wilful and does not brook contradiction well--I acknowledge that--and perhaps papa and I have spoilt her a little; she is such a darling, you know, that it is very difficult not to spoil her--but she would never really oppose our wishes. Papa has only to speak to her--’ ‘Nonsense!’ interposed Mr Crampton gruffly. ‘I have spoken to her a dozen times already, and she laughs in my face and disobeys me as soon as my back is turned. But this business has gone far enough, and I mean to put a stop to it. Where is the girl?’ he continued, turning to his wife; ‘go and tell her I wish to speak to her at once!’ ‘My dear, she has not risen yet. I do not suppose she is awake!’ ‘And it is past eleven,’ said her husband. ‘Yes; but remember how late she was up last night. I don’t think we were home till past two o’clock.’