"Give it up?" he glanced at me with a comical expression, as though I had said something preposterous. "You couldn't give it up if you wanted to. It will come to you by my will. I shall leave it all in your hands."

For a few moments I did not reply. Then I turned to him and said:—

"You were speaking just now of wishing to see me happily married, and you referred to Mr. Dale."

"Well?"

"Don't be concerned, father. It is not of him I wish to speak, except to say that though I have been very grateful he is not my husband, I do not believe I shall ever care for anybody else in the same way. But I have had, this very day, an offer of marriage from a man who is in every sense worthy of me. Indeed, I am not worthy of him."

"Of whom are you speaking?"

"Of Mr. Spence, father."

"Spence? I do not recall the name."

"You have met him only once, I think. He came to the house one afternoon, about a year ago, with that Mr. Barr who dines here sometimes."

"Oh!"