And we were. I was drawn into speaking of my life at home; my remarks, made without premeditation, proved that I possessed ideas and feelings hitherto unknown. I felt no shyness before him, and, although I saw his interest in me, no agitation. Helen was also moved to tell us that she was engaged. She rolled up her sleeve to show us a bracelet, printed in ink on her arm, with the initials, "L.N." Those of her cousin, she said; he was a sailor, and some time, she supposed, they would marry. "How could you consent to have your arm so defaced?" I asked. Her eyes flashed as she replied that she had not looked upon the mark in that light before. "We may all be tattooed," said Mr. Somers. "I am," I thought. He told us in his turn that he should be rich. "There are five of us. My mother's fortune cuts up rather; but it wont be divided till the youngest is twenty-one. I assure you we are impatient." "Some one of your family happened to marry a Morgeson," I here remarked. "I wrote father about that; he must know the circumstance, though he never has a chance to expatiate on _his_ side of the house. Poor man! he has the gout, and passes his time in experiments with temperature and diet. Will you ever visit Belem? I shall certainly go to Surrey." Mrs. Bancroft interrupted us, and soon after Mr. Bancroft arrived, redolent of smoke. Ten o'clock came, and nobody for me. At half-past ten I put on my shawl to walk home, when Charles drove up to the gate. "Say," said Ben Somers, in a low voice, "that you will walk with me." "I am not too late, Cassandra?" called Charles, coming up the steps, bowing to all. "I am glad you are ready; Nell is impatient." "My dear," asked Mrs. Bancroft, "how dare you trust to the mercy of such vicious beasts as Mr. Morgeson loves to drive?" "Come," he said, touching my arm. "Wont you walk?" said Mr. Somers aloud. "Walk?" echoed Charles. "No." "I followed him. Nell had already bitten off a paling; and as he untied her he boxed her ears. She did not jump, for she knew the hand that struck her. We rushed swiftly away through the long shadows of the moonlight. "Charles, what did Ben Somers do at Harvard?" "He was in a night-fight, and he sometimes got drunk; it is a family habit." "Pray, why did you inquire about him?" "From the interest I feel in him." "You like him, then?" "I detest him; do you too?" "I like him." He bent down and looked into my face. "You are telling me a lie." I made no reply. "I should beg your pardon, but I will not. I am going away to-morrow. Give me your hand, and say farewell." "Farewell then. Is Alice up? I see a light moving in her chamber." "If you do, she is not waiting for me." "I have been making coffee for you," she said, as soon as we entered, "in my French biggin. I have packed your valise too, Charles, and have ordered your breakfast. Cassy, we will breakfast after he has gone."