“Why here’s Mr. Rokesmith now!”

“No, no, Pa, no,” cried Bella, greatly flurried. “Surely not.”

“Yes there is! Look here!”

Sooth to say, Mr. Rokesmith not only passed the window, but came into the countinghouse. And not only came into the countinghouse, but, finding himself alone there with Bella and her father, rushed at Bella and caught her in his arms, with the rapturous words “My dear, dear girl; my gallant, generous, disinterested, courageous, noble girl!” And not only that even, (which one might have thought astonishment enough for one dose), but Bella, after hanging her head for a moment, lifted it up and laid it on his breast, as if that were her head’s chosen and lasting resting-place!