you a visit in secret, when my father is out of the way."

"Then you never from the first intended to _marry_ me," interrupted Molly, "you only--only--wanted to----"

"Why, actually _marry_ you, no; I never intended that. _That_ would be impossible, but----""Exactly; I understand you," answered Molly, proudly, "but I scorn your base proposals. If you were to lay the wealth of the universe at my feet, I would never barter my good name. So _this_ is what you have been trying at all this time, to make me your minion." When first you visited me, you gave me to understand that your intentions were honourable, and though I loved you not, and never could, yet I respected you and felt compassion for you and tried to think of you as a friend. Now I neither pity nor respect you, but _despise_ you. Go, sir, and never dare to speak to me again!"
"What a trump of a girl!" I muttered to myself.
"Molly! Molly!" cried Rashly, starting backward in amazement, "are you mad?"
"I should be mad to accept your proposals," replied Molly, calmly, but firmly. "Go, sir--all friendship between us is at an end."
"My dear Molly," began Rashly, "I beg of you, I entreat you to calm yourself--to take a more reasonable view of the matter. Come, let me persuade you, dear," said he, advancing and attempting to put his arm round her waist, but he was instantly repulsed. He essayed again.
"Dare to touch me once more, sir, and I'll scream--I'll rouse the neighbourhood and expose you."
"Hush, hush!" said Rashly, nothing daunted, "be reasonable, there's a good girl, I'll do you no harm," and he ventured to touch her again.
"Back, sir, I say!" and she lifted up her voice to scream, but instantly his hand was on her mouth. I could endure it no longer, but bursting from my hiding-place, and grasping firmly my gold-headed cane, I sprang to the spot.
"Who are you, sir?" I cried, boiling with rage, "that dare offer to insult my niece? Begone! or it will be the worse for you." Both started, and Rashly turned livid and trembled.
"I thank you, sir," said Molly, "for interfering." Then thrusting Rashly aside, I cried; "Molly! I am your uncle, do you not know me?" trying to disguise my voice all the while, which was rather a difficult matter, boiling with passion as I was then.
"I do not know you, sir, though I believe your intentions to be good," said Molly. Then seizing Molly by the hand, I whispered in her ear; "Silence!--not a word--I am Jack risen from the grave." A piercing shriek, and Molly fell fainting against a tree.
"Who are you, you vagabond?" cried Rashly, now for the first time recovering from his surprise. "She does not know you. What have you been saying to the poor girl to frighten her 

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