"Your endeavors to obtain another situation were unsuccessful; the gentleman who engaged you as governess to his children went away in your debt; you were almost at the end of your resources. Of all this I was ignorant until a few weeks since when I came to see you. Then and then only did I learn what had occurred; then and then only did I realize the dangerous position in which you were placed; then and then only did I discover that your affections were engaged to a gentleman whose father is a man of great wealth. My duty was clear; I had come into possession of this legacy, and it seemed to afford a favorable opportunity for the distraction of an unhealthy fancy-- You place your hand on my arm; you wish to speak." "No, father, no," said Nansie, struggling with her feelings; in the gathering dusk her father could not see the play of emotion in her features; and, indeed, during this latter recital she kept her face averted from him; "I am not yet at liberty to do so. Go on." "For the distraction of an unhealthy fancy," he resumed, "which might grow into a disease--which might wreck the happiness of a life most dear to me, I called upon you by the tie which binds and unites us--I am not wrong, dear child, in saying it unites us?" "No, my dear father, it unites us now and ever." "My child!' I called upon you to accompany me in my wanderings, and you consented. I think I have stated it fairly Nansie?" "Quite fairly, father." "Have you anything new to say about it?" "Nothing, except"--and a delicious smile played upon her lips--"except that I love Kingsley." "That is not new," he said, in a tone of whimsical reproach; "it is old. You have told me that before." "It is always new to me, father. And there is something else I _must_ say." "Say it, Nansie." "Kingsley loves me." "Neither is that new. Apart from this I sometimes have an odd idea that you have a secret which you are keeping from me." "If I said I had, it would be half revealing it. Father, time will show." "That is a wiser philosophy than that 'Everything will come right.' Time does and will show. Shall I now relate the story of your uncle?" "If you please, father." "It will not take me long. Your mother, my dear Nansie, had two ardent lovers, your father and your uncle." "That was sad."