"Oh," said Catherine, with some eagerness, "it doesn't take long to like a person—when once you begin."
"You must have begun very quickly. Was it the first time you saw him—that night at your aunt's party?"
"I don't know, father," the girl answered. "I can't tell you about that."
"Of course; that's your own affair. You will have observed that I have acted on that principle. I have not interfered, I have left you your liberty, I have remembered that you are no longer a little girl—that you have arrived at years of discretion."
"I feel very old—and very wise," said Catherine, smiling faintly.
"I am afraid that before long you will feel older and wiser yet. I don't like your engagement."
"Ah!" Catherine exclaimed, softly, getting up from her chair.
"No, my dear. I am sorry to give you pain; but I don't like it. You should have consulted me before you settled it. I have been too easy with you, and I feel as if you had taken advantage of my in-
