of it; but, upon my conscience, he wouldn't be his father's son if he
wasn't what he is."

Alice was sewing some embroidery, and seemed to take no notice, if one
could judge by her downcast locks, of what they said. At length she
said, with a smile:

"As you, Ferdora, have inquired for your favorite, I don't see why I
should not inquire after mine; how is your sister, Mr. Woodward?"

"Indeed, she's the picture of health, Miss Goodwin; but I will not"--he
added, with a smile to balance her own--"I will not be answerable for
the health of her heart."

Alice gave a low laugh, that had the slightest tincture of malice in it,
and glanced at O'Connor, who began to tap his boot with his riding whip.

"She is a good girl as ever lived," said Mrs. Goodwin, "and I hope will
never have a heartache that may harm her."

"Heaven knows, madam," replied Woodward, "it is time only that will tell
that. Love is a strange and sometimes rather a painful malady."

"Of course you speak from your own experience, Mr. Woodward," replied
Alice.

"Then you have had the complaint, sir," said O'Connor, laughing. "I
wonder is it like small-pox or measles?"

"How is that, sir?" said Woodward, smiling.