‘That afternoon I met Mr. Bullock in the street. My mind was so full of the affair with Miss Tomkinson that I should have passed him without notice, if he had not stopped me short, and said that he must speak to me; about my wonderful five hundred pounds, I supposed. But I did not care for that now.

‘“What is this I hear,” said he severely, “about your engagement with Mrs. Rose?”

‘“With Mrs. Rose!” said I, almost laughing, although my heart was heavy enough,

‘“Yes! with Mrs. Rose!” said he sternly.

‘“I’m not engaged to Mrs. Rose,” I replied. “There is some mistake.”

‘“I’m glad to hear it, sir,” he answered, “very glad. It requires some explanation, however. Mrs. Rose has been congratulated, and has acknowledged the truth of the report. It is confirmed by many facts. The work-table you bought, confessing your intention of giving it to your future wife, is given to her. How do you account for these things, sir?”

‘I said I did not pretend to account for them. At present a good deal was inexplicable; and, when I could give an explanation, I did not think that I should feel myself called upon to give it to him.

‘“Very well, sir; very well,” replied he, growing very red. “I shall take care and let Mr. Morgan know the opinion I entertain of you. What do you think that man deserves to be called who enters a family under the plea of friendship, and takes advantage of his intimacy to win the affections of the daughter, and then engages himself to another woman?”

‘I thought he referred to Miss Caroline. I simply said I could only say that I was not engaged; and that Miss Tomkinson had been quite mistaken in supposing I had been paying any attentions to her sister beyond those dictated by mere civility.

‘“Miss Tomkinson! Miss Caroline! I don’t understand to what you refer. Is there another victim to your perfidy? What I allude to are the attentions you have paid to my daughter, Miss Bullock.”

‘Another! I could but disclaim, as I had done in the case of Miss ............