"You have, perhaps, seen a whole family after the death of one of its members, religiously observe profound silence on the subject. Should any one rudely or even gently mention the deceased, all are instantly horrified. Each fears that the feelings of all the rest have been shocked. At this moment, a calm and judicious friend, when the ice is once broken, may cure all this amiable weakness by steadily and tenderly persevering. I was determined to try the experiment in this case. A bold measure, when you consider the person and the circumstances. "'Miss St. Clair,' said I, after she had recovered her composure; 'allow me to ask whether your family is related to that of General St. Clair?' "'I believe not,' she composedly answered. "'Has your father been long dead?' "'Not a very long time: and the loss is the greater, as I have never known the value of a brother or a sister.' "'You do not seem to labour under the usual disadvantages of step-daughters.' "'Never was step-father more devoted and affectionate than mine, in his own peculiar way; and with that I am quite contented.' "Now, Randolph, you know that impertinence had no share in dictating these questions, but could impertinence have gone farther? what ramification could I next attempt? Here was nearly the whole genealogical tree, but farther down there was no hope of touching the true branch. "Her own gentle heart alone remained to be suspected. How could I suspect it, Randolph? so young, so pure, so gentle, so beautiful! Alas! that is but a poor protection against suitors. Besides, she is said to be rich. Must the question be asked? I resolved upon it! Was I not justifiable in doing so? Am I not an avowed suitor? at least have I not shown myself ready to become so? The opportunity was good; the company were all engaged in little coteries around the saloon. My previous questions seemed rather to have tranquillized her than otherwise; it was a trying moment! but no other step could be gained until this obstacle was surmounted. I therefore proceeded to make one or two anxious inquiries, critical as it regards my happiness, but which a lover cannot confide even to the ear of Randolph. "My object was to know whether I had aught to fear from rivalry. Her lips moved, but no sound issued from them. I resumed; 'Believe me, that this pain would not have been inflicted, if my supposed relation to yourself had not imboldened me to ask whether any other man were so happy as to render me miserable.' "'I see no impropriety in answering your question, though it can avail nothing; my _affections_ are now as they have always been--disengaged.'