"You're tired of us. The novelty is over and so are the
visits."

Faraday arose, too bitterly annoyed for speech. Genevieve, rising too,
and touching her skirts with arranging hand, continued, apparently
unconscious of the storm she was rousing:

"And yet it seems odd that you should find such a difference. Lord
Hastings, now, who's English, and much more conventional, thinks the
people here just as refined and particular as any other Americans."

"It's evident," said Faraday, in a voice roughened with anger, "that
Lord Hastings's appreciation of the refinement of the Americans is only
equaled by your admiration for the talents of the English."

"I do like them," said Genevieve, dubiously, shaking her head, as if she
was admitting a not entirely creditable taste, and looking away from
him.

There was a moment's silence. Faraday fastened his eyes upon her in a
look of passionate confession that in its powerful pleading drew her own
back to his.

"You're as honest as you are cruel," he said, almost in a whisper.

She made no reply, but turned her head sharply away, as if in sudden
embarrassment. Then, in answer to his conventionally murmured good-byes,
she looked back, and he saw her face radiant, alight, with the most
beautiful smile trembling on the lips. The splendor of this look seemed
to him a mute expression of her happiness--of love reciprocated,
ambition realized--and in it he read his own doom. He turned blindly
round to pick up his hat; the door behind him was opened, and there,
handsome, debonair, fresh as a May morning, stood Lord Hastings, hat in
hand.

"I hope you're not vexed, Miss. Ryan," said this young man, "but I'm
very much afraid I'm just a bit late."

After this Faraday thought it quite unnecessary to visit Barney Ryan's
"palatial mansion" for some time. Genevieve's engagement would soon be
announced, and then he would have to go and offer his congratulations.
As to whether he would dance at her wedding with a light heart--that was
another matter. He assured himself that she was making a splendid and
eminently suitable marriage. With her beauty and money and true simple
heart she would deck the fine position which the Englishman could give
her. He wished her every happiness, but that he should stand by and
watch the progress of the courtship seemed to him an unnecessary
twisting of the knife in the wound. Even the endurance of New England
human nature has its limits, and Faraday could stan