"Certainly," replied Jonathan, with the most perfect sangfroid, "I'll undertake to free you from the boy. The haste to send her upon her way now had but one interpretation—the recognition of his own immediate danger, the fear that if this tender association continued, he would end in offering her a calamity quite as impossible as that which had happened—the love of a man who was in all probability older than her father! The hurt was no less intensive because it was so ridiculous. I have a weapon—a knife—and if you attempt to open the door, will plunge it to my heart. To go to him, to console him! But she stirred not from her hiding place. F. Ann Veronica was one of the few young people—and one must have young people just as one must have flowers—one could ask to a little gathering without the risk of a painful discord.
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