promise?'

'Oh no, papa.'

'Nor spoken to him--of your regard for him?'

'Never;--not a word. Nor to me,--except in such words as one
understands even though they say nothing.'

'I wish he had never seen you.'

'Is he a bad man, papa?'

'Who knows? I cannot tell. He may be ever so bad. How is one
to know whether a man be bad or good when one knows nothing about
him?' At this point the father got up and walked about the room.
'The long and the short of it is that you must not see him any
more.'

'Did you tell him so?'

'Yes;--well; I don't know whether I said exactly that, but I
told him that the whole thing must come to an end. And it must.
Luckily it seems that nothing has been said on either side.'

'But papa;--is there to be no reason?'

'Haven't I given reasons? I will not have my daughter encourage
an adventurer,--a man of whom nobody knows anything. That is
reason sufficient.'