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“Ah? I was hardly expecting this—at least so soon—yes, so soon.”

“Why not, Mr. Vanclure?”

“Why not? Why because you ar’nt settled in life—yes, settled in life.”

“I have now a respectable income,” said Ernest, “if you are alluding to that, and it is increasing gradually, but surely.”

“I have no doubt, Ernest,” replied Mr. Vanclure, with more tenderness than he wished to manifest, “that you will succeed—yes, you will succeed. But still, both of you are rather young to marry.”

“We think differently,” answered Ernest, with a smile, “I am nearly twenty five.”

“Ah? are you that old? Well, bless me, I believe you are, since I come to think about it. Dear me! how time does fly—yes, how time does fly. You have got to be a man before I thought about it. Young people do grow up so fast—so fast—and Clara is a grown woman, too. Well; well.”

“Since you have discovered that we are both grown,” said Ernest with a smile, “may I hope that you will not oppose our wishes?”

“And if I did,” answered Mr. Vanclure, not knowing what he ought to say, “What would you do—yes, what would you do?”