“I like you all the better for saying so, Hannah, and don’t imagine that I shall expect you to love me! If you continue kind and attentive, that is all that I shall ask. And if I did not believe that you would be so, I should not wish you to be my wife, even if you were a Princess of the Blood Royal. Cannot you make up your mind on the subject?” “Well! I don’t suppose as I could do better,” replied the girl, with another deep sigh, “so p’r’aps I’d better say ‘Yes’, Sir!” It was not a very ardent way of accepting his proposal, but Ricardo wanted no more than her acquiescence. He did not even put down his pipe to kiss the girl, nor press her hand. He only smiled and said, “Well! I’m glad you’ve come to that conclusion, and you and I will go out together some day and get it quietly over.” He said nothing to Karl Steinberg on the subject until a week afterwards, when he came in one morning, with the girl, from the Registrar’s office, and told him that they were man and wife. Hannah grinned as the news was made public, but disappeared immediately afterwards into the kitchen, to prepare the family breakfast. Ricardo waited for Steinberg to speak, but he sat silent and apart, with knitted brows, and a perplexed countenance. “And so, my dear friend, you have no congratulations to offer me?” said the Professor at length. “Frankly, my dear Ricardo, no! You know what my sentiments are regarding the step you have taken, which appears an act of madness to me. However, it is done and cannot be undone, so the less said the better.” “And you know the motives which induced me to propose it,” replied the Professor. “They are not altered, Karl, they never will be! I feel as if the ceremony of this morning had united me to Leonora over again. I am as rapturously happy as if the grave had restored her to me. There is no such thought as love, or any other nonsense, for this girl. I will be good to her, but to me she is Leonora’s medium--nothing more! Come! at least congratulate me on having reached the climax of my desires regarding Occultism.” “I wish you all happiness and success in every possible way, my dear Ricardo,” exclaimed Steinberg, as he stretched his hand across the table and grasped that of his friend. “But here is Mrs. Ricardo with our breakfast. I hope your morning stroll has given you a good appetite, Professor!” “The best in the world,” cried the older man, gaily, as he drew his chair to the table. Hannah had placed the coffee and rolls and eggs before them and was about to return to the kitchen. “But surely your wife will breakfast with us, now?” remarked Steinberg. “Of course! to be sure,” said the Professor. “Hannah, my dear, sit down and take your breakfast with the Doctor and me!” “O! no, Sir, indeed I’d rayther not!” exclaimed the girl, as she beat a retreat to her own quarters. Her husband smiled and shrugged his shoulders.