"What I have to say," began George, "is not much. I met Miss Diana at Boston at Mrs. Marshall's, where your niece stayed for some months last year. I was on very good terms with your relative." "Yes, yes; my cousin," said Samuel. "Need I say that from the first moment I saw her I loved your niece? My visits to Mrs. Marshall, once only occasional, became so frequent that the lady began to have suspicion of my intentions. She at once called me on one side, and while giving me every credit for loyalty and worth, she told me not to prosecute my attentions, as Diana's father would never consent to our marriage. Despite all my entreaties, however, she would give me no reason, until at last, yielding to my earnest entreaties, she explained that many years before there had been such a quarrel between my father and Joshua Dickson that any alliance between our families must ever prove impossible." Samuel listened with extreme anxiety. "You see yourself that I am right," said the young man. "You are mistaken," cried the other; "the matter is rather serious, I allow. I really had forgotten that old affair. But don't ask me any questions; all I say is, have courage. Circumstances will probably alter, and believe me that in Samuel Dickson you will have a sincere friend." "I should be only too glad to help." "When I am on your side nothing is difficult. Now to breakfast. But how did you know of my brother's coming out here?" suddenly cried Samuel. "Miss Diana told me herself." "Oh, oh! Then I wonder no longer. To breakfast." "I hope, Master Samuel, you will excuse me," began the other, taking up his hunter's cap. "Sit down; if my niece were here you would not go." "Can I come in?" suddenly said a soft voice at the door, a voice that made George start. This sudden coincidence utterly overcame the old man's gravity, and, throwing himself back in his chair, he screamed with laughter, while Diana stood transfixed in the doorway, and George Clinton simply turned his cap round in his hand without being able to articulate a word. It was Dardar who ended the scene. The dog had remained outside for a moment or two, and then, seeing the door open, had rushed right into the middle of the room; seeing George Clinton he rushed at him, wagging his tail first, and then, leaping up, his paws on either shoulder, he licked his face with a joyous whine. "By heavens!" cried the squatter, "The fellow is lucky. Everyone likes him, even that precious Dardar, and yet he despairs. Come in, Sly Boots, and kiss your uncle." She did not require twice asking. "You are welcome, mademoiselle," he said, with mock politeness. "I suppose I need not introduce you to yonder tall young fellow?" "I have known the gentleman some time," replied the young girl, holding out her hand, which George took and kissed.