respect for the high rank of her lady guests, Betty's smiles, while
waiting on handsome George, were of a far rarer quality than those given
to rank and station in the small dining room. In Hamilton's case, she
could not suppress the smile nor restrain the soft laugh incident to her
surprise. The warm glow in her eyes and her murmured words of modest
welcome came of their own accord, because she was kind of heart and as
bewitching a bit of humanity as one could possibly want to caress.

At different times I had imagined that Betty was in love with Hamilton,
and had suffered strange twinges of jealousy on account of my fear;
twinges that surprised and angered me, for my heart had no business going
astray after a barmaid. She had always been kind to me, with a shy
fluttering in her manner from which I should have taken comfort had she
not been freer and easier with Hamilton.

Betty's manner with me should have given me a hint of the way her heart
was tending, even at that early time, but Hamilton was so much more
likely to attract a woman than I, and his manner was so much more offhand
and dashing than mine that I thought it impossible for such a girl as
Betty to think twice of me while she might have been thinking of him. But
I was wrong, as will unfold later; wrong, greatly to my trouble and
surprise.

I should be delighted if I could discover the standards whereby women
measure men. Ugly John Prigg is adored by a beautiful wife, from whom no
other man can win a smile. Stupid little Short possesses a tall rare
Venus, and cadaverous Long a bewitching Hebe. Bandy-legged Little Jermyn,
of Whitehall, he of the "pop eyes" and the rickets head, he with neither
manner, presence, brains, rank, nor money, save what he steals and begs,
is beyond doubt the lady-killer of our court, so what are we to do about
it all but wonder and "give it up"?

"While you have changed for the better, if at all," said Hamilton, "I
also have changed for the better, and sadly for the worse, in some
respects. There is a paradox for you, Betty. I'm better and I'm worse. Do
you know what a paradox is"?

"I'm not sure, Master Hamilton. Perhaps Lord Monmouth is one," answered
Betty, laughing, and coming so close to the truth that Hamilton concluded
she knew the word. "He has been coming here of late, and has been trying
to make love to me."

"And succeeding, Betty?" asked George.

"Ah, no. I've stopped waiting on him. He hasn't money enough to buy