[NEARLY WRECKED.]
IN FIVE CHAPTERS.
CHAPTER I.—THE BETROTHAL.
'And so, Mabel, Wilfred Merton has proposed to you?' The speaker, as he made this remark, laid down the paper which he had been reading, and looked across the room at its other occupant, who was standing in one of the windows chirping to a canary, and addressing it in that peculiar language which is commonly supposed to be gratifying to the feelings of the feathered tribe, however incomprehensible it may be to differently constructed beings.
Mabel hearing herself spoken to, turned round, and leaving the bird to its own meditations, came to the table, which was laid for breakfast.
'Yes, papa,' she said, beginning to pour out the tea as she spoke; 'and what is more, I have accepted him.'
'Indeed! You didn't think it necessary then, to ask my permission in the matter?'
'Well, you see I'm afraid I rather took that for granted, and so did not think it necessary to ask for it beforehand. And then too you know Wilfred and I have always meant to marry one another some day, and that it really doesn't make any very great difference whether we call ourselves engaged or not.'
'Oh, you have always intended it, have you? May I ask how long "always" has been in this case?'
'Well, do you know, dear papa, I think we first settled it quite definitely when we were five, when Wilfred gave me the ring out of a wire button as an engagement ring,' answered Mabel, smiling brightly.