striking to glaringness--a proof of her
ability, and more of her audacity; still more of her intention to flatter
him up to his perdition. By the things written of him, one would imagine
the conversations going on behind the scenes. She had the wiles of a
Cleopatra, not without some of the Nilene's experiences. A youthful
Antony Dacier would be little likely to escape her toils. And so
promising a young man! The sigh, the tear for weeping over his
destruction, almost fell, such vivid realizing of the prophesy appeared
in its pathetic pronouncement.

This low rumour, or malaria, began blowing in the winter, and did not
travel fast; for strangely, there was hardly a breath of it in the
atmosphere of Dacier, none in Diana's. It rose from groups not so rapidly
and largely mixing, and less quick to kindle; whose crazy sincereness
battened on the smallest morsel of fact and collected the fictitious by
slow absorption. But as guardians of morality, often doing good duty in
their office, they are persistent. When Parliament assembled, Mr. Quintin
Manx, a punctual member of the House, if nothing else, arrived in town.
He was invited to dine with Lady Wathin. After dinner she spoke to him of
the absent Constance, and heard of her being well, and expressed a great
rejoicing at that. Whereupon the burly old shipowner frowned and puffed.
Constance, he said, had plunged into these new spangle, candle and high
singing services; was all for symbols, harps, effigies, what not. Lady
Wathin's countenance froze in hearing of it. She led Mr. Quintin to a
wall-sofa, and said: 'Surely the dear child must have had a
disappointment, for her to have taken to those foolish displays of
religion! It is generally a sign.'

'Well, ma'am-my lady--I let girls go their ways in such things. I don't
interfere. But it's that fellow, or nobody, with her. She has fixed her
girl's mind on him, and if she can't columbine as a bride, she will as a
nun. Young people must be at some harlequinade.'

'But it is very shocking. And he?'

'He plays last and loose, warm and cold. I'm ready to settle twenty times
a nobleman's dowry on my niece and she's a fine girl, a handsome girl,
educated up to the brim, fit to queen it in any drawing-room. He holds
her by some arts that don't hold him, it seems. He's all for politics.'

'Constance can scarcely be his dupe so far, I should think.'

'How do you mean?'

'Everything points to one secret of his conduct.'

'A wo