Agnes laid aside her work, and replied, folding her hands upon one another, and looking pensively at me out of those beautiful soft eyes of hers:

“I believe he is going to enter into partnership with papa.”

“What? Uriah? That mean, fawning fellow, worm himself into such promotion!” I cried, indignantly. “Have you made no remonstrance about it, Agnes? Consider what a connection it is likely to be. You must speak out. You must not allow your father to take such a mad step. You must prevent it, Agnes, while there’s time.”

Still looking at me, Agnes shook her head while I was speaking, with a faint smile at my warmth: and then replied: