no humour for
argument.

"Was your humility feigned when you wrote it?"

He merely said: "Consider the sort of minds influenced by set sayings.
A proverb is the half-way-house to an Idea, I conceive; and the majority
rest there content: can the keeper of such a house be flattered by his
company?"

She felt her feminine intelligence swaying under him again. There
must be greatness in a man who could thus speak of his own special and
admirable aptitude.

Further she read, "Which is the coward among us?--He who sneers at the
failings of Humanity!"

"Oh! that is true! How much I admire that!" cried the dark-eyed dame as
she beamed intellectual raptures.

Another Aphorism seemed closely to apply to him: "There is no more
grievous sight, as there is no greater perversion, than a wise man at
the mercy of his feelings."

"He must have written it," she thought, "when he had himself for an
example--strange man that he is!"

Lady Blandish was still inclined to submission, though decidedly
insubordinate. She had once been fairly conquered: but if what she
reverenced as a great mind could conquer her, it must be a great
man that should hold her captive. The Autumn Primrose blooms for the
loftiest manhood; is a vindictive flower in lesser hands. Nevertheless
Sir Austin had only to be successful, and this lady's allegiance was his
for ever. The trial was at hand.

She said again: "He is not coming to-night," and the baronet, on whose
visage a contemplative pleased look had been rising for a minute past,
quietly added: "He is come."

Richard's voice was heard in the hall.

There was commotion all over the house at the return of the young heir.
Berry, seizing every possible occasion to approach his Bessy now that
her involuntary coldness had enhanced her value--"Such is men!" as the
soft woman reflected--Berry ascended to her and delivered the news in
pompous tones and wheedling gestures. "The best word you've spoke for
many a day," says she, and leaves him unfee'd, in an attitude, to hurry
and pour bliss into Lucy's ears.

"Lord be praised!" she entered the adjoining room exclaiming, "we're got
to be happy at last. They men have come to their senses. I could cry to
your Virgin and kiss your Cross, you sweet!"

"Hush!" Lucy admonished her, and crooned over the child on her knees.
The tiny open hands, full of sleep, clutched; the large blue eyes
started awake; and his mother, all trembling and palpitating, knowing,
but