Walter's spirits were kept up only by anger. Julia Clifford saw he was in
trouble, and asked him what was the matter.
"Oh, nothing that would interest you," said he, rather sullenly.
"Excuse me," said she. "I am always interested in the troubles of my
friends, and you have been a good friend to me."
"It is very good of you to think so. Well, then, yes, I am unhappy. I am
crossed in love."
"Is it that fair girl you introduced me to when out riding?"
"Yes."
"She is lovely."
"Miss Clifford, she is an angel."
"Ha! ha! We are all angels till we are found out. Who is the man?"
"What man?"
"That she prefers to my good Walter. She deserves a good whipping,
your angel."
"Much obliged to you, Miss Clifford; but she prefers no man to your good
Walter, though I am not worthy to tie her shoes. Why, we are devoted to
each other."
"Well, you needn't fly out at _me_. I am your friend, as you will see.
Make me your confidante. Explain, please. How can you be crossed in love
if there's no other man?"
"It's her father.
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