eard of a pretty Jane?" said Sir Peter. "If it
isn't May, it ought to be. At any rate, there was a Charming May."

"The month--not a person."

"Pretty Jane, indeed! You must sing me that after lunch, and then we can
see whether the song was pretty or not, my dear, eh?"

"Certainly, Sir Peter, if you like."

"Yes, I do like. My lady here seems to have lost her voice lately. I
can't imagine the reason. I am sure she has everything to make her sing
for joy; have you not, my dear?"

"Everything, and more than everything," replies my lady, laconically.

"And she has a strong sense of duty, too; loves those whom she ought to
love, and despises those whom she ought to despise. She always has done,
from her infancy up to the time when she loved me and despised public
opinion for my sake."

The last remark was uttered in tones of deeper malignity, while the eyes
began to glare, and the under lip to droop, and the sharp eye-teeth,
which lent such a very emphatic point to all Sir Peter's smiles, sneers,
and facial movements in general, gleamed.

Adelaide's lip quivered for a second; her color momentarily faded.

In this kind of light and agreeable badinage the meal passed over, and
we were followed into the drawing-room by Sir Peter, loudly demanding
"'My Pretty Jane'--or May, or whatever it was."

"We are going out," said my lady. "You can have it another time. May can
not sing the moment she has finished lunch."

"Hold your tongue, my dear," said Sir Peter; and inspired by an
agreeable and playful humor, he patted his wife's shoulder and pinched
her ear.

The color fled from her very lips and she stood pale and rigid with a
look in her eyes which I interpreted to mean a shuddering recoil,
stopped by sheer force of will.

Sir Peter turned with an engaging laugh to me:

"Miss May--bonny May--made me a promise, and she must keep it; or if she
doesn't I shall take the usual forfeit. We know what that is. Upon my
word, I almost wish she would break her promise."

"I have no wish to break my promise," said I, hastening to the piano,
and then and there singing "My Pretty Jane," and one or two others,
after which he released us, chuckling at having contrived to keep my
lady so long waiting for her drive.

The afternoon's programme was, I confess, not without attraction to me;
for I knew that I was pretty, and I had not one of the strong and
powerful minds which remained unelated by admiration and undepressed by
the a