wait before you took this step, and at least to have paid her the
courtesy to ask her leave?"

Pen held down his head, and began dimly to perceive that the action on
which he had prided himself as a most romantic, generous instance of
disinterested affection, was perhaps a very selfish and headstrong piece
of folly.

"I did it in a moment of passion," said Pen, floundering; "I was not
aware what I was going to say or to do" (and in this he spoke with
perfect sincerity) "But now it is said, and I stand to it. No; I neither
can nor will recall it. I'll die rather than do so. And I--I don't want
to burthen my mother," he continued. "I'll work for myself. I'll go on
the stage, and act with her. She--she says I should do well there."

"But will she take you on those terms?" the Major interposed. "Mind, I do
not say that Miss Costigan is not the most disinterested of women: but,
don't you suppose now, fairly, that your position as a young gentleman of
ancient birth and decent expectations forms a part of the cause why she
finds your addresses welcome?"

"I'll die, I say, rather than forfeit my pledge to her," said Pen,
doubling his fists and turning red.

"Who asks you, my dear friend?" answered the imperturbable guardian. "No
gentleman breaks his word, of course, when it has been given freely. But
after all, you can wait. You owe something to your mother, something to
your family--something to me as your father's representative."

"Oh, of course," Pen said, feeling rather relieved.