wed symptoms of unrest. Six
o'clock struck and passed. She walked here and there for nothing, and it
was plain that a dread was filling her: her letter might accidentally
have had, in addition to the moral effect which she had intended, the
practical effect which she did not intend, by arriving before, instead of
after, his purposed visit to her, thereby stopping him in spite of all
her care.

'How long are letters going to Bloomsbury?' she said suddenly.

'Two hours, Joey tells me,' replied Picotee, who had already inquired on
her own private account.

'There!' exclaimed Ethelberta petulantly. 'How I dislike a man to
misrepresent things! He said there was not time for a reply!'

'Perhaps he didn't know,' said Picotee, in angel tones; 'and so it
happens all right, and he has got it, and he will not come after all.'

They waited and waited, but Christopher did not appear that night; the
true case being that his declaration about insufficient time for a reply
was merely an ingenious suggestion to her not to be so cruel as to forbid
him. He was far from suspecting when the letter of denial did reach
him--about an hour before the time of appointment--that it was sent by a
refinement of art, of which the real intention was futility, and that but
for his own misstatement it would have been carefully delayed.

The next day another letter came from the musician, decidedly short and
to the point. The irate lover stated that he would not be made a fool of
any longer: under any circumstances he meant to come that self-same
afternoon, and should decidedly expect her to see him.

'I will not see him!' said Ethelberta. 'Why did he not call last night?'

'Because you told him not to,' said Picotee.

'Good gracious, as if a woman's words are to be translated as literally
as Homer! Surely he is aware that more often than not "No" is said to a
man's importunities because it is traditionally the correct modest reply,
and for nothing else in the world. If all men took words as
superficially as he does, we should die of decorum in shoals.'

'Ah, Berta! how could you write a letter that you did not mean should be
obeyed?'

'I did in a measure mean it, although I could have shown Christian
forgiveness if it had not been. Never mind; I will not see him. I'll
plague my heart for the credit of my sex.'

To ensure the fulfilment of this resolve, Ethelberta determined to give
way to a headache that she was beginning to be a