enchantment afforded by proximity. The second opportunity led him
impetuously into a draper's shop, where a magnificent shop-walker, after
first ceremoniously handing him a high cane chair, passed on his order
for pins in a deep and thrilling baritone, and retired in good order.

[Illustration: "The most astounding and gratifying instance of the
wonders effected by time was that of Miss Nugent."]

By the end of a week his observations were completed, and Kate Nugent,
securely enthroned in his mind as the incarnation of feminine grace and
beauty, left but little room for other matters. On his second Sunday at
home, to his father's great surprise, he attended church, and after
contemplating Miss Nugent's back hair for an hour and a half came home
and spoke eloquently and nobly on "burying hatchets," "healing old
sores," "letting bygones be bygones," and kindred topics.

"I never take much notice of sermons myself," said the captain,
misunderstanding.

"Sermon?" said his son. "I wasn't thinking of the sermon, but I saw
Captain Nugent there, and I remembered the stupid quarrel between you.
It's absurd that it should go on indefinitely."

"Why, what does it matter?" inquired the other, staring. "Why shouldn't
it? Perhaps it's the music that's affected you; some of those old
hymns--"

"It wasn't the sermon and it wasn't the hymns," said his son,
disdainfully; "it's just common sense. It seems to me that the enmity
between you has lasted long enough."