question.

But upon Girasole its effect was very great. The manner of Minnie had
been excessively perplexing to him all through this eventful day. If
she had stormed and gone into a fine frenzy he could have borne it. It
would have been natural. But she was perfectly unconcerned, and her
only complaint was about trifles. Such trifles too! He felt ashamed to
think that he could have subjected to such annoyances a woman whom he
so dearly loved. And now he was once more puzzled. Minnie confronted
him, looking at him fixedly, without one particle of fear, with her
large, earnest, innocent eyes fastened upon his--with the calm, cool
gaze, of some high-minded child rebuking a younger child-companion.
This was a proceeding which he was not prepared for. Besides, the
child-innocence of her face and of her words actually daunted him. She
seemed so fearless, because she was so innocent. She became a greater
puzzle than ever. He had never seen much of her before, and this day's
experience of her had actually daunted him and confounded him. And
what was the worst to him of all her words was her calm and simple
declaration, "I hate you!"

"Yes," said Minnie, thoughtfully, "it must be so; and dear Kitty would
have said the same, only she was so awfully prejudiced. And I always
thought he was so nice. Yes, I think I really must be engaged to him.
But as for you," she said, turning full upon Girasole, "I hate you!"

Girasole's face grew white with rage and jealousy.

"Aha!" said he. "You lof _him_. Aha! An' you were engage to _him_.
Aha!"

"Yes, I really think so."

"Aha! Well, listen," cried Girasole, in a hoarse voice--"listen.
He--he--de rival--de one you say you are engage--he is dead!"

And with this he fastened upon Minnie his eyes that now gleamed with
rage, and had an expression in them that might have made Ethel quiver
with horror, but she did not, for she knew that Girasole was mistaken
on that point.

As for Minnie, she was not at all impressed by his fierce looks.

"I don't think you really know what you're talking about," said she;
"and you're very, very unpleasant. At any rate, you are altogether in
the wrong when you say he is dead."

"Dead! He is dead! I swear it!" cried Girasole, whose manner was a
little toned down by Minnie's coolness.

"This is getting to be awfully funny, you know," said Minnie. "I
really think we don't know what one another is talking about. I'm sure
_I_ don't, and I'm sure _he_ don'