tainly, as a
rule, the sense of ridicule is more poignant, and Evan was suffering
horrid pangs. We none of us like to play second fiddle. To play second
fiddle to a young woman is an abomination to us all. But to have to
perform upon that instrument to the darling of our hearts--would we not
rather die? nay, almost rather end the duet precipitately and with
violence. Evan, when he passed Drummond into the house, and quietly
returned his gaze, endured the first shock of this strange feeling. There
could be no doubt that he was playing second fiddle to Rose. And what was
he about to do? Oh, horror! to stand like a criminal, and say, or worse,
have said for him, things to tip the ears with fire! To tell the young
lady's mother that he had won her daughter's love, and meant--what did he
mean? He knew not. Alas! he was second fiddle; he could only mean what
she meant. Evan loved Rose deeply and completely, but noble manhood was
strong in him. You may sneer at us, if you please, ladies. We have been
educated in a theory, that when you lead off with the bow, the order of
Nature is reversed, and it is no wonder therefore, that, having stript us
of one attribute, our fine feathers moult, and the majestic cock-like
march which distinguishes us degenerates. You unsex us, if I may dare to
say so. Ceasing to be men, what are we? If we are to please you rightly,
always allow us to play First.

Poor Evan did feel foolish. Whether Rose saw it in his walk, or had a
loving feminine intuition of it, and was aware of the golden rule I have
just laid down, we need not inquire. She hit the fact, and he could only
stammer, and bid her open the door.

'No,' she said, after a slight hesitation, 'it will be better that I
should speak to Mama alone, I see. Walk out on the lawn, dear, and wait
for me. And if you meet Drummond, don't be angry with him. Drummond is
very fond of me, and of course I shall teach him to be fond of you. He
only thinks . . . what is not true, because he does not know you. I do
thoroughly, and there, you see, I give you my hand.'

Evan drew the dear hand humbly to his lips. Rose then nodded meaningly,
and let her eyes dwell on him, and went in to her mother to open the
battle.

Could it be that a flame had sprung up in those grey eyes latterly? Once
they were like morning before sunrise. How soft and' warm and tenderly
transparent they could now be! Assuredly she loved him. And he, beloved
by the noblest girl ever fash