"Where? in my parlor?"

"Yes; in your parlor, dearest."

"I suppose it's not necessary for me to ask what you said."

"I suppose not," said Minnie, in a sweet voice. "He was so grand and
so strong, and he never made any allusions to the wreck; and it
was--the--the--_very first_ time that any body ever--proposed; and so,
you know, I didn't know how to take it, and I didn't want to hurt his
feelings, and I couldn't deny that he had saved my life; and I don't
know when I _ever_ was so confused. It's awful, Kitty darling.

"And then, you know, darling," continued Minnie, "he went away, and
used to write regularly every month. He came to see me once, and I was
frightened to death almost. He is going to marry me next year. He used
an awful expression, dearest. He told me he was a struggling man.
Isn't that horrid? What is it, Kitty? Isn't it something very, very
dreadful?"

"He writes still, I suppose?"

"Oh dear, yes."

Mrs. Willoughby was silent for some time.

"Oh, Minnie," said she at last, "what a trouble all this is! How I
wish you had been with me all this time!"