"'Philip, you wrong him, indeed, you do!' she cried, with flashing eyes. 'He never talks to me of love, he only seeks to be my friend. I am too young to think of love. I don't know what being in love is--but I do feel very grateful to one so much richer and better than me, and who is heir to all these beautiful groves, and that fine old Hall, taking such an interest in my welfare--particularly,' she added, with great emphasis on her words, 'after he received such unworthy treatment from a brother of mine.' "'You surely do not mean what you say, Alice?' "'I never say what I do not mean; and if you come back to us, Philip, only to quarrel with us, you had better have stayed away.' "For a few minutes I felt terribly annoyed; but when I recollected that these words fell from the lips of a spoilt child, I restrained my anger, in the hope of saving her from the ruin I feared might be impending over her. "'Alice, you are a simple, little girl; as such I forgive you. You are not aware of the danger to which you are exposed. Young people are so ignorant of the treachery of the world, and so confident in their own strength to resist temptation, that they easily fall into the snares laid for them by wicked and designing men. If you persist in receiving the attentions of this man, who would consider it the utmost degradation to make you his wife, I, as your brother and natural protector, will consider it my duty to remove you from this place.' "'I will not go!' she cried; stopping suddenly and looking me in the face with an air of defiance. 'You are not your own master yet, much less mine. I shall remain here with my dear, old grandmother, as long as she lives. And let me tell you, Mr. Philip, I am as competent to manage my own affairs as you are!' "Could this be Alice? "I looked at her, and looked again. The beauty of her countenance seemed changed. I turned from her with a deep sigh. "'Oh, Alice, sister Alice! I tremble for you; so young and so self-willed. This is not my Alice, the happy, confiding Alice, who once loved me so tenderly.' "'I did love you, Philip, very much,' she replied, in a softened voice; 'but how was my love returned? You quarrelled with the only friend we had in the world. One, too, who had done so much for us. To whose bounty we were indebted for a home and daily bread; for the clothes we wore, for the instruction we received--who treated us in every respect more like his own children, than the poor recipients of his noble generosity. You forgot all this. You insolently refused to apologize to his young relative, the heir of his title and wealth, for having grossly insulted him, and left your home and his protection without bidding this dear sister, for whose well-doing you are so deeply concerned, and who shared in your disgrace, one short farewell.' "'Alice--Alice!'