"She likes you, I am sure," said I, as I stood behind his chair, "and her father respects you. Moreover, she is a sweet girl--rather thoughtless; but you would have sufficient thought for both yourself and her. You ought to marry her."

     "Does she like me?" he asked.

     "Certainly; better than she likes any one else. She talks of you continually: there is no subject she enjoys so much or touches upon so often."

     "It is very pleasant to hear this," he said--"very: go on for another quarter of an hour." And he actually took out his watch and laid it upon the table to measure the time.

     "But where is the use of going on," I asked, "when you are probably preparing some iron blow of contradiction, or forging a fresh chain to fetter your heart?"