"You mean that he has proposed to Miss Esther?"
The Captain nodded.
"And has been refused?"
"Flat."
"Poor fellow!" said I, very honestly. "Did he tell you himself?"
"Yes, with tears in his eyes. He wanted me to speak for him. I told him it was no use. Then he began to say hard things of my poor girl."
"What kind of things?"
"A pack of falsehoods. He says she has no heart. She has promised always to regard him as a friend: it's more than I will, hang him!"
"Poor fellow!" said I; and now, as I write, I can only repeat, considering what a hope was here broken, Poor fellow!
August 23d.—I have been lounging about all day, thinking of it, dreaming of it, spooning over it, as they say. This is a decided waste of time. I think, accordingly, the best thing for me to do is, to sit down and lay the ghost by writing out my story.