e is no victory like that. I should envy Alexander nothing and
Napoleon nothing if I thought I could really conquer one woman's heart.
My very consciousness of the worth of the prize paralyzes my efforts. It
is musty, but it is true, that fools rush in where angels fear to tread."

He sat silent, gazing abstractedly at the two lovely feet of Miss Grace
Plumer, with an air that implied how far his mind had wandered in their
conversation from any merely personal considerations. Miss Grace Plumer
had not made as much progress as Mr. Newt since their last meeting. Abel
Newt seemed to her the handsomest fellow she had ever seen. What he had
said both piqued and pleased her. It pleased her because it piqued her.

"Women are naturally noble," he continued, in a low, rippling voice. "If
they see that a man sincerely admires them they forgive him, although he
can not say so. Yes, and a woman who really loves a man forgives him
every thing."

He was looking at her hands, which lay white, and warm, and glittering in
her lap. She was silent.

"What a superb ruby, Miss Grace! It might be a dew-drop from a
pomegranate in Paradise."

She smiled at the extravagant conceit, while he took her hand as he
spoke, and admired the ring. The white, warm hand remained passive in
his.

"Let me come nearer to Paradise," he said, half-abstractedly, as if he
were following his own thoughts, and he pressed his lips to the fingers
upon which the ruby gleamed.

Miss Grace Plumer was almost frightened. This was a very different
performance from Mr. Sligo Moultrie's--very different from any she had
known. She felt as if she suggested, in some indescribable way, strange
and beautiful thoughts to Abel Newt. He looked and spoke as if he
addressed himself to the thoughts she had evoked rather than to herself.
Yet she felt herself to be both the cause and the substance. It was very
sweet. She did not know what she felt; she did not know how much she
dared. But when he went away she knew that Abel Newt was appointed first
flirter, _vice_ Sligo Moultrie removed.

CHAPTER XXXVIII.

THE DAY AFTER THE WEDDING.

"On the 23d instant, Alfred Dinks, Esq., of Boston, to Fanny, oldest
daughter of Boniface Newt, Esq., of this city."

Fanny wrote the notice with her own hands, and made Alfred take it to the
papers. In this manner she was before her mother-in-law in spreading the
news. In this manner, also, as Boniface Newt, Esq., sat at breakfast, he