you will know exactly the course I shall pursue.'
"'I understand you, father. I am deeply grieved to offend you, but if it must be so I shall leave your house. As I have already told you, I love Mary Cuthbert, she has consented to become my wife, and my word is pledged to her. I am twenty-six years of age, and you have no legal control over my actions.'
"'Very well, sir!' replied my father, after a painful pause. 'Do as you please, but bear in mind that from the hour of your marriage, you and the woman you are about to force into my family are strangers to me for ever.'
"'I hope, father, that time will convince you of the harshness and injustice of such a determination—that you will forget and forgive.'
"'Never, sir! Good-bye!'
"In another instant the study door opened, and my brother appeared in the room where I sat trembling and bewildered. He was quite calm, but very pale. Perceiving me, he came at once and took me in his arms.
"'Good-bye, darling,' he said, sadly. 'I am going away for a long, long time, and I don't know when I shall see my little sister again.'
"'No, no!' I cried. 'Don't say that, dear Frederick! You know I am not angry with you—how could I be angry with you, my dear, kind brother?'
"He looked at me inquiringly. 'Ah!' he said. 'You heard what passed just now, Maggie, did you?' Then, as if remembering the difference in our ages, he added: 'I wish I could explain all to you, dear, but I must not do that now. You are only a child, you know, little sister. These are matters which you will understand better when you are a few years older. All I can say to you at present is that I shall always love you tenderly, whether I am near yon or far away.'
"'And I shall always love you, too, dear brother,' I sobbed.
"He took me once more in his strong arms, kissed my quivering lips, and was gone.
"A fortnight afterwards Frederick Norton married the woman to whom he had given his heart, and now gave his name. It was a severe shock to my father, whose soldier's notions of duty and obedience were thus set at defiance by his only son. 'I will never forgive him,' he declared, 'never!'
"From that day the undivided affection of the proud, imperious, self-willed, but kind-hearted old man centred in me alone. I became his constant companion, and rather than permit me to be away from him even for a few hours each day, he took me from school, and engaged professors to continue my education under his own immediate direction, whilst he himself yielded to all my girlish whims and caprices with the most absolute docility. This commenced the hour of my brother's departure, and increased as time went on. My father appeared to divine and anticipate my smallest wishes, and often when I went out with him I was afraid to admire any trinket or knicknack I happened to notice in the shop-windows, well knowing that if I did so he would be sure to buy it for me before the day was over.
"To this paternal indulgence there was only a single exception, and on that one subject—my discarded brother—Colonel Norton remained as immovable as a rock.
"Often and often I essayed to bring about a reconciliation, and in furtherance of this much-desired end I exerted all the vast influence I knew I possessed over my father, and every feminine artifice as well, but my efforts were totally unavailing. The moment I commenced the forbidden theme, his brow darkened, and he commanded me to be silent. The tone he adopted on these occasions left me no alternative but to obey. I knew his nature too well to resist compliance with his will. I was repulsed, but not vanquished. Indeed, my hopes of ultimate victory were not in the least diminished by many successive checks which might well have disheartened a feeble girl like me, had I not been firmly resolved to triumph in the end. I was a soldier's daughter, and I had read enough of Roman history to remember that to temporise is sometimes to win."
"I know what that means, grandma," interrupted Master Ned, eager to display his erudition.
"What does it mean, my dear?" replied the old lady, smiling.
"Why, Fabius Cunctator, the Roman Consul, who played the waiting game against Annibal," replied Ned, proudly.
"You are perfectly right, Edward, and I adopted the Fabian policy of caution, refusing to fight in the open field, but continually harassing the enemy by counter-marches and ambuscades, like my wise Roman predecessor. Ah! what a clever
