lady-killing reputation. Though, in the present instance,
I'm ready to back my opinion that the biter is fairly bit. What regiments
of women will tear their hair--real or the other thing--when Beau becomes
a Benedick."

Saxham saw red, but he gave no sign. She turned down her little thumb with
a twinkle of triumph.

"_Habet!_ And I'm not sorry he has got it badly. His _leitmotif_ in the
music-play has been 'See the Conquering Hero' up to now; one isn't sorry
to see one's sex avenged. But one _is_ sorry for Mary Fraithorn's boy."
She indicated the Chaplain with a twirl of her eyeglasses. "She used to
visit him with the Sisters when he was ill, and, of course, he has been
bowled over. But _il n'a pas un radis_, unless the Bishop comes round, and
don't you think that little Greek head of hers is aware that a great deal
of money goes with the Foltlebarre title, and that the family diamonds
would suit it to a marvel?"

Saxham said gratingly, and with a hostile look:

"Do you infer that Miss Mildare is vain and mercenary?"

"Good mercy, my dear man!" she screamed; "don't pounce. I infer nothing,
except that Miss Mildare happens to be a live girl, with eyes and the gift
of charm, and that the young men are attracted to her as naturally as
drones to a honey-pot. Also, that, if she's wise, she will dispose of her
honey to the best advantage." Her beady bright eyes snapped suddenly at
Saxham, and her small face broke up into laughter. "Ha, ha, ha! Why, I do
believe ..." She screamed at him triumphantly. "You, too! You've
succumbed. She carries your scalp at her pretty waist with the rest of
'em. How perfectly delightful!"

Possibly Saxham had always been a bear, as her little ladyship had stated,
but the last five years had certainly scraped off whatever social veneer
had adhered to his manners. The power of facial self-control, the common
tact that would have carried things off with a laugh and a jest, were his
no longer, if he had ever possessed them. He got upon his feet and stood
before the woman whose six ounces less of brain-matter had been
counterbalanced by so large an allowance of intuition, dumbly furious with
her, and so unspeakably savage with himself for not being able to hide his
anger and annoyance that, as he stood before her with his hulking
shoulders hunched and his square, black head sullenly lowered, and his
eyes blazing under their heavy brows, he suggested to Lady Hannah's nimble
wit and travelled expe