"It is a most extraordinary idea; in fact, I call it ridiculous, monstrous: an old battered fellow like him, who has knocked about the world, Heaven knows where, all these years, to come home, and, because he has got a lot of money, think to go and marry one of these nice, pretty girls. They wouldn't have him, I believe that; but nobody else believes it; and every body seems to think it the most natural thing possible. What do you say?" "I?" "Surely you don't think it right, or even possible? But, Auntie, it might turn out a rather awkward affair, and you ought to take my advice, and stop it in time." "How?" "Why, by stepping him out of the house. You and he are great friends: if he had any notion of marrying, I suppose he would mention it to you--he ought. It would be a cowardly trick to come and steal one of your chickens from under your wing. Wouldn't it? Do say something, instead of merely echoing what I say. It really is a serious matter, though you don't think so." "Yes, I do think so," said Miss Williams, at last; "and I would stop it if I thought I had any right. But Mr. Roy is quite able to manage his own affairs; and he is not so very old--not more than five-and-twenty years older than--Helen." "Bother Helen! I beg her pardon, she is a dear good girl. But do you think any man would look at Helen when there was Janetta?" It was out now, out with a burning blush over all the lad's honest face, and the sudden crick-crack of a pretty Indian paper-cutter he unfortunately was twiddling in his fingers. Miss Williams must have been blind indeed not to have guessed the state of the case. "What! Janetta? Oh, David!" was all she said. He nodded. "Yes, that's it, just it. I thought you must have found it out long ago: though I kept myself to myself pretty close, still you might have guessed." "I never did. I had not the remotest idea. Oh, how remiss I have been! It is all my fault." "Excuse me, I can not see that it is any body's fault, or any body's misfortune, either," said the young fellow, with a not unbecoming pride. "I hope I should not be a bad husband to any girl, when it comes to that. But it has not come; I have never said a single word to her. I wanted to be quite clear of Oxford, and in a way to win my own position first. And really we are so very jolly together as it is. What are you smiling for?" She could not help it. There was something so funny in the whole affair. They seemed such babies, playing at love; and their love-making, if such it was, had been carried on in such an exceedingly open and lively way, not a bit of tragedy about it, rather genteel comedy, bordering on farce. It was such a contrast to--certain other love stories that she had known, quite buried out of sight now. Gentle "Auntie"--the grave maiden lady, the old hen with all these young ducklings who would take to the water so soon--held out her hand to the impetuous David.