"Allow me to return to the point. My meaning is, that to be able to see and feel none save the self-demonstrative sort of beauty, is common- place."
"The other course is decidedly more original; is that the point,
Cornelius?"
"The point," he replied, fairly provoked, "is, that such as you are, pretty or plain, I find you charming."
"Well, then," I said, amused at his persistency, "glamour has fallen on your eyes, and you see me through it."
"What if I do?" he answered, in a tone that, like his look, suddenly softened; "will that sort of magic vex you? What is there so pleasant in this world as the face of one we love; and if your face has that pleasantness for me; if the glamour, as you call it, of affection has fallen on my eyes and heart, why should you mind?"
Oh! not indifferent, even in the purest affection, are these things. I glanced up into his face; and as it told me how thoroughly he meant all he said, I blushed; then ashamed of blushing, I hung down my head. He stooped to look at me.
"Perverse girl," he said, chidingly, "don't you see it was useless to try to frighten and torment me? But you have provoked me. Shall I tell you why I find you so very, very charming?"
I looked up at him, and, passing my arms around his neck, I smiled as I replied:
"Cornelius, it is because as a father you have reared me; because as a father you love me. What wonder, then, that a father should see some sort of beauty in his daughter's face?"
Cornelius looked thunder-struck; then recovering, he gave me an incredulous glance, and attempted a smile, which vanished as he met my astonished look. A burning glow overspread his features: it was not the light blush of boy or girl, called up by idle words, but the ardent fire of a manly heart's deep and passionate emotions. He untwined my arm from around his neck; he rose: his brown eyes lit—his lips trembled. At first he seemed unable to speak; at length he said: