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We're going to get married, but don't tell pa--"

I almost leaped from the ground in consternation. My whole frame throbbed, my mouth fell open, my tongue was tied.

She backed half a step, and quite needlessly I let it go. Then she bade me not forget I had promised her the words of a certain song. "Want them? Indeed, yes! Did you not say it was an unpublished song written by a messmate of yours?--oh, Mr. Smith! I see why you stammer! You said 'a member of your mess'! oh!--oh!--oh!--you wrote it, yourself! And you wrote it to-day! That explains--" She drew an awesome breath, rose to her toes and knit her knuckles under her throat.

Lit with foolish hope to hear thy fondling sighs, Like yon twilight dove's, breathe, Return, return!

"Why, I can read my safety in your face. You can't read anything in mine; you're afraid to look."

"I don't believe," said I, "I'd better put myself on the old gentleman when the mistress of the house is away."

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