pleased."

"Doubtless he was pleased," said I, hoping to lead up to the subject so
near to Sir George's heart, but now farther than ever from mine.

The girl unsuspectingly helped me.

"Father asked if you had spoken upon a subject of great interest to him
and to yourself, and I told him you had not. 'When he does speak,' said
father most kindly, 'I want you to grant his request'--and I will grant
it, Cousin Malcolm." She looked in my face and continued: "I will grant
your request, whatever it may be. You are the dearest friend I have in the
world, and mine is the most loving and lovable father that girl ever had.
It almost breaks my heart when I think of his suffering should he learn of
what I have done--that which I just told to you." She walked beside me
meditatively for a moment and said, "To-morrow I will return Sir John's
gift and I will never see him again."

I felt sure that by to-morrow she would have repented of her repentance;
but I soon discovered that I had given her much more time than she needed
to perform that trifling feminine gymnastic, for with the next breath she
said:--

"I have no means of returning the heart. I must see him once more and I
will give--give it--it--back to--to him, and will tell him that I can see
him never again." She scarcely had sufficient resolution to finish telling
her intention. Whence, then, would come the will to put it in action?
Forty thieves could not have stolen the heart from her, though she thought
she was honest when she said she would take it to him.