ind towards my only sister? To what class of motives could you
credit such conduct?"

"I think you shrink from acknowledging your real feelings, because you
very well know that I could never sanction or consent to them."

Mr. Minge arched his heavy brows, and the sternly drawn lines of his
large mouth relaxed, and threatened to run into curves that belonged
to the ludicrous, as he turned his twinkling eyes upon his sister's
face.

"What extraordinary hallucinations attack even sage, sedate,
middle-aged men? Ten minutes ago I would have sworn I was your
guardian; whereas, it seems your apron-strings are the reins that rule
me. Don't pout, my Czarina, if I demand your credentials before I bow
submissively to your _ukase_."

"Irony is not your forte; and, Merton, I beg you to recollect that I
detest bantering,--it is so excessively ungenteel. No wonder you look
nervous and ashamed, after your recent very surprising manifestation
of--well, I might as well say what I mean--of _mauvais gout_."

Constance Minge impatiently threw off the light worsted shawl that
rested on her shoulders, and propped her cheek on her jewelled hand.

Her brother's countenance clouded, and his lips hardened, but after
one keen look at her flushed features, he once more resumed the
perusal of the paper. Some moments elapsed, and his sister sobbed, but
he took no notice of the sound.

"Merton, I never expected you would treat me so cruelly."

"Make out your charges in detail, and when you are sure you have
included all the petty deeds of tyranny as well as the heinous acts of
brutality, I will examine the indictment, and hear myself arraigned.
Shall I bring you some legal cap, and loan you my pencil?"

For five minutes she held her handkerchief to her eyes, and then Mr.
Minge rose and looked at his watch.

"You will not be so unkind as to leave me again this afternoon, and
spend your time with that--"

"Constance, you transcend your privileges, and this is a most
_apropos_ and convenient occasion to remind you that presumption is
one fault I find it particularly difficult to forgive. Since my
forbearance only invites aggression, let me hear say (as an economy of
trouble), that you are rashly invading a realm where I permit none to
enter, much less to dictate. I hope you understand me."

"I knew it,--I felt it! I dreaded that artful girl would make mischief
between us,--would alienate the only heart I had left to care for me.
Oh, how I