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Max returned in the afternoon to the Lock, just as
Doctor Courtlandt and his aunt drove up to the door, in
their comfortable sleigh. The worthy Doctor was overjoyed
to see his son looking so well, and welcomed him
with great affection.

“When did you return, my boy,” he said, “on my
word, you are, it seems to me, in excellent spirits.”

“I am, sir,” said Max, with a smile.

“You found us absent; how have you passed the
morning—riding out?”

“Yes, sir.”

The Doctor's piercing eye detected some embarrassment
in the young man's countenance; but not a very
painful embarrassment.

“To the Parsonage?” he asked.

“Yes, sir,” Max said.

“And whom did you see?”

“Every body, sir, but Caroline. Where is she to-day?”

“Riding out with Mr. Emberton,” said Mrs. Courtlandt,
“and I believe here they come.”

In fact a sleigh at that moment made its appearance
at the bottom of the knoll coming from the direction of
Martinsburg. In this sleigh were seated Caroline and
Mr. Emberton, laughing and talking.

“You have heard the news, I suppose, Max,” said Mrs.
Courtlandt.

“The news, aunt?”

“About Caroline and Robert Emberton. Since you
have been away he has addressed her—”

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“And—” began Max laughing.

“They are engaged.”

“I knew it,” said Max.

“Who told you?”

“Alice.”

“Ah,” said Doctor Courtlandt, with a sudden suspicion,
and looking intently at the young man, “she told you,
did she?”

“Yes, sir,” Max said with a blush, avoiding the laughing
eye of Doctor Courtlandt.

“Alice is making a very nice waistcoat for you, Max,”
said his aunt, “she has put a great deal of work on it.”

Max was glad of this diversion.

“How did she get my measure, aunt?” he asked.

“I gave her one of yours to cut it by; on the very
day you left us.”

Max suddenly recollected that he had seen Alice on
that day, from his elevated position on the Third Hill
Mountain, leave the Parsonage and take the road to the
Lock.

“It was very kind in her,” he said, smiling.

The sleigh drove up to the door, and Mr. Emberton
helped Caroline out.

“Oh, there's my elegant cousin, as I live!” cried the
young girl.

“How d'ye do, cousin,” said Max, going up and taking
her hand.

“Come, don't be so formal,” said Doctor Courtlandt,
mischievously.

“He shan't kiss me.”

“By your leave, mistress,” said the young man, pressing
his lips to her cheek, “that is good Shakspeare.”

“And bad manners.”

Mr. Emberton approached Max and courteously offered
him his hand. That young gentleman returned the
friendly grasp with great good feeling.

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“I hope you will consider my note to you unwritten,”
said Mr. Emberton.

“What note?” said Max. “It seems to me that this
observation should come from me. I regret the hasty
words I wrote to you.”

“What words?” said Mr. Emberton.

Doctor Courtlandt began to laugh; and taking the
young men aside explained the whole matter.

“I am sure we are good friends now, however,” said
Max, laughing, “and I offer you my hand and my friendship.
Take both.”

“With all my heart.”

And so these belligerent gentlemen sealed their newly
agreed on amity by pressing each the other's hand. This
dreadful matter was arranged to suit all parties; but we
are bound to say that the bright eyes of the sisters had
perfected this sudden friendship, as they had caused the
former quarrel. Both Mr. Robert Emberton and Max
were much too happy, to feel the least desire to drink
each other's blood—a ceremony they had felt a violent
desire to perform a week or two before.

They returned to the spot where Mrs. Courtlandt and
Caroline stood talking.

“Have you seen your nice waistcoat, cousin Max?”
said Caroline.

“Yes, my charming cousin.”

“`Charming,' indeed! you are very witty all at once.”

“Your presence inspired me.”

“Yes; as it did just now to be very presuming, sir.”

“What do you mean?”

“In kissing me!”

“Kissing goes by favor,” said Max, laughing.”

“If favor went by kissing you would never reach me.”

“Why?”

“You are not a favorite with me,” said Caroline,
“which I think is a very good reason.”

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“Excellent; but you might tolerate my presence on
one ground.”

“What, pray?”

“My awkwardness is such an excellent foil to your
grace.”

“I have never heard a gentleman praise another, especially
a lady, at his own expense, and thought him in
earnest; mere irony, sir.”

“Ma foi!” said Max, “there is no irony about it.
You are a very elegant and charming young woman, I a
very ordinary young man.”

“Yes—you think so doubtless with your fine curls,
and your nice mustache—to be!” added Caroline laughing
and pointing at her cousin.

“Exactly,” said Max, “old people always spy out
the weak points in an inexperienced and unsophisticated
youth.”

“You won't dare to call me old, sir.”

“No, no—did I not just now say that you were an
excellent foil, with your thousand graces, to myself? Now
if I am so elegant as you say, it necessarily follows that
you are so much the more beautiful and graceful, since I
am but a foil to you, mademoiselle.”

“Foil! a fencing term.”

“Yes, of some significance.”

“What, pray?”

“It suggests riding caps.”

“Oh, you have not forgotten my ill-luck—I have not
lost sight of your want of gallantry.”

“Forgotten it! no, you looked much too charming on
that day with those beautiful flowing locks, my belle
cousin, for me to possibly forget.”

“Oh, a fine compliment!”

“I make you a present of it—free, gratis.”

“I do not accept.”

“It was in return, cousin Caroline.”

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“In return for what?”

“Your present to me.”

“What present?”

“The present of yourself, when you ran forward and
threw yourself into my arms—deign to recollect, if you
please.”

This repartee of Mr. Max caused Doctor Courtlandt,
who well remembered the fencing scene we have related,
to burst into a laugh and cry “bravo!” Caroline, for a
moment discomfited, turned round and said to him:

“Uncle, you shall not take Max's part against me.”

“Against you, my heart's delight!” oried Doctor Courtlandt,
“never!”

“I knew you would not; you are such a nice old beau.”

“Thank you.”

“Besides I have quite as good a joke on you,” said
Caroline, with a merry and significant laugh which evidently
startled the worthy Doctor.

“Humph!” he said, suspiciously.

“I have indeed.”

“Bless my heart,” said Doctor Courtlandt, “this is a
most extraordinary young lady. But come, let us go in;
no more wit-combats, no more clashing of foils and that
sort of thing, my children.”

“Nice old fellow!” said Caroline, lacing her arm round
the Doctor's waist and leaning her head on his shoulder,
“Aunt Courtlandt, did you ever see a more excellent and
amiable old man; so handsome too, so much handsomer
than Max! There's my hand; forgive me, cousin!”

Max took the hand, laughing.

“Oh, uncle,” whispered Caroline, “somebody told me
you were going to be married! Is it true?”

“Humph,” said Doctor Courtlandt, and he led the way
into the house.

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