serve of human nature. "It was
too soon to be personal with a poor man who has been out of the world
so long. But I think he enjoyed himself after the first embarrassment
wore off. I feel surer still," with an exalted expression turned
suddenly upon Lord Hunsdon, "that we shall rescue him. We must have
him here often, not lose a day of this precious time. Then we can
leave Nevis without anxiety, or perhaps induce him to go with us." She
reflected that were she mistress of Hunsdon Towers she should be quite
willing to give the famous poet a turret and pass as his mundane
redeemer.

Hunsdon moved toward her as if her enthusiasm were a magnet. "It has
all exceeded my fondest hopes," he exclaimed. "He was quite like his
old self before he left----"

"Thanks to Miss Percy," broke in a stridulous voice. "He was devoured
with ennui, to say nothing of shyness, until he summoned up courage to
talk to her, and then he seemed to me quite like any ordinary young
spark. I don't know that he quite forgot to be a poet," she concluded
with some gallantry, for she had taken a great fancy to Anne and was
determined to marry her brilliantly, "but he certainly ceased for a
few moments to look like a God-forsaken one. What were you talking
about, my dear?"

"_Dear_ Lady Constance--Oh, Nevis, and his poetry, for the most part."

"I should think he would be sick of both subjects. Come now, be frank.
Did not you get on the subject of your pretty self? I'll be bound he
has an eye for a fine girl as well as the best of them. You make Mary
and Lillian look like paper dolls."

"I do protest!" cried Miss Bargarny indignantly. "If he does it is
practically because he is a--lives in the country himself. If he lived
in London among people of the first fashion----"

"He'd admire her all the more. Look at the other beaux. Wait until
Miss Percy is in the high tide of a London season. You forget that if
girls are always on the catch, men are always ready for a change."

Miss Bargarny's black eyes were in flames, but she dared not provoke
that dreaded tongue further. She forced herself to smile as she turned
to Anne, standing abashed during this discussion of herself, and
longing to be alone with her chaotic thoughts. "Confess, dear Miss
Percy, that you did not talk about yourself, but about that most
fascinating of all subjects to man, _himself_. I believe you have
the true instinct of the coquette, in spite of your great lack of
experience, and