"And may I beg to know, sir, what he has told you?"

"Have I not already said that he has told me all? Yes, madam, I have
said so, I think. But come, Lucy," he added, affecting to relax, "be a
good girl; as you said, yourself, it should not be sir and madam between
you and me. You are all I have in the world--my only child, and if I
appear harsh to you, it is only because I love and am anxious to make
you happy. Come, my dear child, put confidence in me, and rely upon my
affection and generosity."

Lucy was staggered for a moment, but only for a moment, for she
thoroughly understood him.

"But, papa, if the gentleman you allude to has told you all, what is
there left for me to confide to you?"

"Why, the truth is, Lucy, I was anxious to test his sincerity, and
to have your version as well as his. He appears, certainly, to be a
gentleman and a man of honor."

"And if he be a man of honor, papa, how can you require such a test?"

"I said, observe, that he appears to be such; but, you know, a man may
be mistaken in the estimate he forms of another in a first interview.
Come, Lucy, do something to make me your friend."

"My friend!" she replied, whilst the tears rose to her eyes. "Alas,
papa, must I hear such language as this from a father's lips? Should
anything be necessary to make that father the friend of his only child?