deep and melting glance? Why, too, was that glance returned with the
quickness of thought before her lids dropped, and the conscious blush
suffused her face? The solution of this we must also leave to your own
ingenuity.

"Well," proceeded the squire, "steady, prudent, sober--of a fine old
family, and with an estate of twelve thousand a year--what do you think
of that, Willy? Isn't she a fortunate girl?"

"Taking his virtues and very agreeable person into consideration, sir,
I think so," replied Reilly in a tone of slight sarcasm, which was only
calculated to reach one of his audience.

"You hear that, Helen--you hear what Mr. Reilly--what Willy-says. The
fact is, I'll call you nothing but Willy in future, Willy--you hear what
he says, darling?"

"Indeed I do, papa--and understand it perfectly."

"That's my girl. Twelve thousand a year--and has money lent out at every
rate of interest from six per cent. up."

"And yet I cannot consider him as interesting on that account, papa."

"You do, Helen--nonsense, my love--you do, I tell you--it's all
make-believe when you speak to the contrary--don't you call the curve
on his shoulders the line of beauty? Come--come--you know I only want to
make you happy."

"It is time, papa, that I should withdraw," she replied, rising.