thoughtfully towards the house. "What did it all mean?" he asked himself;
"of what unkind return of his or Elsie's hospitality could the lad have
been guilty? Elsie! ha! can it be possible?" and quickened his pace,
glancing from side to side in search of her as he hurried on.

Entering the hall, the sound of a half-smothered sob guided him to a
little parlor or reception-room seldom used. Softly he opened the door.
She was there half-reclining upon a sofa, her face buried in the cushions.
In a moment he had her in his arms, the weary, aching head on his breast,
while he tenderly wiped away the fast-falling tears.

"My poor darling, my poor little pet, don't take it so to heart. It is
nothing; he will probably get over it before he is a month older."

"Papa, is it my fault? did I give him undue encouragement? am I a
coquette?" she sobbed.

"Far from it! did he dare to call you that?"

"No, no, oh, no; he said he did not blame me; it was all his own folly."

"Ah! I think the better of him for that; though 'twas no more than just."

"I thought he knew of my engagement."

"So did I. And the absurdity of the thing! Such a mixture of relationships
as it would have been! I should never have entertained the thought for a
moment. And he ought to have spoken to me first, and spared you all this.
No, you needn't fret; he deserves all he suffers, for what he has
inflicted upon you, my precious one."