can I have?" said he unsuspiciously.

"No, dear Merthyr," she replied; and only by her tone he read the guilty
little rejoicing in her heart, marvelling at jealousy that could twist so
straight a stem as his sister's spirit. This had taught her, who knew
nothing of love, that a man loving does not pity in such a ease."

"I hope you will find her here:" Georgiana hurried her steps. "Say
anything to comfort her. I will have her with me, and try and teach her
what self-control means, and how it is to be won. If ever she can act on
the stage as she spoke to-night, she will be a great dramatic genius. She
was transformed. She uses strange forcible expressions that one does not
hear in every-day life. She crushed Charlotte as if she had taken her up
in one hand, and without any display at all: no gesture, or spasm. I
noticed, as they stood together, that there is such a contrast between
animal courage and imaginative fire."

"Charlotte could meet a great occasion, I should think," said Merthyr;
and, taking his sister by the elbow: "You speak as if you had observed
very coolly. Did Emilia leave you so cold? Did she seem to speak from
head, not from heart?"

"No; she moved me--poor child! Only, how humiliating to hear her beg for
love!--before us."

Merthyr smiled: "I thought it must be the woman's feeling that would
interfere to stop a natural emotion. Is it true--or did I not see that
certain eyes were red just now?"

"That was for him," said Georgiana, hastily. "I am sure that no man has
stood in such a position as he did. To see a man made publicly ashamed,
and bearing it. I have never had to endure so painful a sight."

"To stand between two women, claimed by both, like Solomon's babe! A man
might as well at once have Solomon's judgement put into execution upon
him. You wept for him! Do you know, Georgey, that charity of your sex,
which makes you cry at any 'affecting situation,' must have been designed
to compensate to us for the severities of Providence."

"No, Merthyr;" she arrested his raillery. "Do I ever cry? But I
thought--if it had been my brother! and almost at the thought I felt the
tears rush at my eyelids, as if the shame had been mine."

"The probability of its not being your brother seemed distant at the
moment," said Merthyr, with his half-melancholy smile. "Tell me--I can
conjure up the scene: but tell me whether you saw more passions than one
in her face?"

"Emilia's? No. Her face reminded me of