“Well, then, I ain’t sorry one mite,” she said, flushing angrily, “and I think you are a real wicked man to try and part us, for Squire Moulton said ‘what God hath joined together let no man put to thunder.’ Was not that it, Robbie?” she asked, half doubtfully, thinking that it didn’t sound just right. The lawyer shouted, while even her mother and Mr. Ellerton could not repress a smile at this new version of the Scriptural command. “No, ‘put asunder,’ darling,” replied the boy lover, a glad look in his eye, while he gathered her closer in his arms. “Come here, Dora,” said Mrs. Dupont, who had noticed the act, and feared it might influence her replies. She obeyed, though somewhat unwillingly. Lawyer Leonard, controlling his mirth, turned to the child and said: “My dear little girl, don’t you see how unhappy you are making your mother? Only see how pale and sad she looks at what you have done. If you will only say you are sorry she will be happy again.” Dora looked up in her mother’s face with a troubled expression. “Mamma,” she asked, “are you unhappy?” “Yes, dear, very,” replied Mrs. Dupont. “Mamma, do you want me to tell a lie?” “I have always told you to speak the truth, my child,” replied her mother, somewhat evasively. “No, but do you want me to tell one now?” Mrs. Dupont caught the child to her bosom as she whispered: “No, dear.” She then turned with a look of anguish to her visitors, and said: “It’s of no use, gentlemen; I cannot ask my child to tell a falsehood even for this. I have always taught her to shun an untruth, and I cannot be the first to bid her speak one.” Dora threw herself into her mother’s arms again, and bursting into tears, said, between her sobs: “Mamma, if Robbie was sorry, I should be—because—because if he didn’t want me for his wife I shouldn’t want to be.” Something very like a curse burst from Mr. Ellerton’s lips, while the lawyer, with tears in his eyes, turned to him and said: “I think, my dear sir, you had better let this matter rest, at least for the present. It is clear that the children love each other. It’s an odd predicament, I know, and I must say I never before knew or heard of an attachment so strong in persons so young. It may prove to their mutual happiness hereafter, and therefore I advise you to let the subject drop.” “No!” thundered Mr. Ellerton. “If the law won’t separate them, I shall. They are a couple of stubborn fools, and if they won’t give in, I will send Robert off where he shall never see the girl again. Once for all, what do you say, Robert?” “Oh, Robbie!” sobbed Dora. “Hush, darling,” whispered her mother, while she anxiously waited Robert’s reply. A look of anger flashed from the boy’s fine eyes, while the lines about his mouth grew harder and sterner, though his tone was perfectly respectful as he replied: “I say, sir, that I am glad it was done before you had a chance to stop it. She is mine now and forever, and nobody can take her from me.”