ould be called upon in some way for a declaration
of his sentiments,--and that the call would be one which all his wit
would not enable him to answer with any comfort. It was very well
jesting about milestones, but every jest brought him nearer to the
precipice. He perceived that however ludicrous might be the image
which his words produced, she was clever enough in some way to turn
that image to her own purpose. He had called a woman a finger-post,
and forthwith she had offered to come to him and be a finger-post to
him for life! What was he to say to her? It was clear that he must
say something. As at this moment she was sobbing violently, he could
not pass the offer by as a joke. Women will say that his answer
should have been very simple, and his escape very easy. But men will
understand that it is not easy to reject even a Miss Demolines when
she offers herself for matrimony. And, moreover,--as Johnny bethought
himself at this crisis of his fate,--Lady Demolines was no doubt at
the other side of the drawing-room door, ready to stop him, should
he attempt to run away. In the meantime the sobs on the sofa became
violent, and still more violent. He had not even yet made up his
mind what to do, when Madalina, springing to her feet, stood before
him, with her curls wildly waving and her arms extended. "Let it be
as though it were unsaid," she exclaimed. John Eames had not the
slightest objection; but, nevertheless, there was a difficulty even
in this. Were he simply to assent to this latter proposition, it
could not be but that the feminine nature of Miss Demolines would be
outraged by so uncomplimentary an acquiescence. He felt that he ought
at least to hesitate a little,--to make some pretence at closing upon
the rich offer that had been made to him; only that were he to show
any such pretence the rich offer would, no doubt, be repeated. His
Madalina had twitted him in the earlier part of their interview with
knowing nothing of the nature of women. He did know enough to feel
assured that any false step on his part now would lead him into very
serious difficulties. "Let it be as though it were unsaid! Why, oh
why, have I betrayed myself?" exclaimed Madalina.

John had now risen from his chair, and coming up to her took her by
the arm and spoke a word. "Compose yourself," he said. He spoke in
his most affectionate voice, and he stood very close to her.

"How easy it is to bid me to do that," said Madalina. "Tell the se