Tue looked up, with alarm, fear, and astonishment mingled in her face. Seeing Ching, she took courage. "You are too good," she said, "but I cannot tell you - you could not help me."

"Try me," said the youth, with conscious self-satisfaction; "I can do a good deal."

"You cannot change my father's wili," objected she.

"And what is his will?"

"I dare not trust -"

"Me?" insinuatingly.

"Any one," guiltily begging the question.

"You must want a friend. Can you not look on me as you would on a brother? Can you not conquer your distrust of a stranger, and tell a friend?"

"I will never tell any one!" she exclaimed with emphasis. "He wants me -"

"He wants you -" encouragingly.

"I will never let a stranger be my master."

"He wants to give you a husband?" he guessed.

"Oh!" she exclaimed, frightened and vexed, "I did n't tell you?"

"I only guessed," reassuringly. But now that her secret was out, Tue, not without frequent blushes, explained her father's idea, and the contemplated fulfilment of it. Ching listened with sympathy, and when she ceased began to plan for her rescue.

How many of our most important acts and thoughts, our friend the philosopher would say, are guided by chance! A sympathetic glance, when the lip is trembling, - a sigh, when the heart is full, - these are the causes of passionate affection; but an ill-timed word, an act of presuming tenderness too soon, will destroy the best-founded hopes.