s Dunstable was treating him like a boy.
While she pretended to be so fond of him she was only laughing at
him, and corresponding the while with his cousin George. Now Frank
Gresham already entertained a sort of contempt for his cousin, which
increased the bitterness of his feelings. Could it really be possible
that George had succeeded while he had utterly failed; that his
stupid cousin had touched the heart of the heiress while she was
playing with him as with a boy?

"Of all your knights! Is that the way you talk to me when we are
going to part? When was it, Miss Dunstable, that George de Courcy
became one of them?"

Miss Dunstable for a while looked serious enough. "What makes you ask
that?" said she. "What makes you inquire about Mr de Courcy?"

"Oh, I have eyes, you know, and can't help seeing. Not that I see, or
have seen anything that I could possibly help."

"And what have you seen, Mr Gresham?"

"Why, I know you have been writing to him."

"Did he tell you so?"

"No; he did not tell me; but I know it."

For a moment she sat silent, and then her face again resumed its
usual happy smile. "Come, Mr Gresham, you are not going to quarrel
with me, I hope, even if I did write a letter to your cousin. Why
should I not write to him? I correspond with all manner of people.
I'll write to you some of these days if you'll let me, and will
promise to answer my letters."

Frank threw himself back on the sofa on which he was sitting, and, in
doing so, brought himself somewhat nearer to his companion than he
had been; he then drew his hand slowly across his forehead, pushing
back his thick hair, and as he did so he sighed somewhat plaintively.

"I do not care," said he, "for the privilege of correspondence on
such terms. If my cousin George is to be a correspondent of yours
also, I will give up my claim."

And then he sighed again, so that it was piteous to hear him. He was
certainly an arrant puppy, and an egregious ass into the bargain;
but then, it must be remembered in his favour that he was only
twenty-one, and that much had been done to spoil him. Miss Dunstable
did remember this, and therefore abstained from laughing at him.

"Why, Mr Gresham, what on earth do you mean? In all human probability
I shall never write another line to Mr de Courcy; but, if I did, what
possible harm could it do you?"

"Oh, Miss Dunstable! you do not in the least understand what my
feelings are."

"Don't I? Then I hope I nev