There is no denying that she looked amazingly
beautiful. She looked, in fact, disconcertingly beautiful. I found it
hard to tell her to take the dress off again.

"Is it wrong?" she asked Nvith a pucker of her baby lips.

"Yes, indeed," said I. "People would be shocked."

"But on Saturday evening--" she began.

"I know, my child," I interrupted. "In society you are scarcely
respectable unless you go about half naked at night; but to do so in the
daytime would be the grossest indecency. I'll explain some other time."

"I shall never understand," said Carlotta.

Two great tears stood, one on each eyelid, and fell simultaneously down
her cheeks.

"What on earth are you crying for?" I asked aghast.

"You are not pleased with me," said Carlotta, with a choke in her voice.

The two tears fell like rain-drops on to her bosom, and she stood before
me a picture of exquisite woe. Then I did a very foolish thing.

Last week a little gold brooch in a jeweller's window caught my fancy.
I bought it with the idea of presenting it to Carlotta, when an occasion
offered, as a reward for peculiar merit. Now, however, to show her that
I was in no way angry, I abstracted the bauble from the drawer of my
writing-table, and put it in her hand.

"You please me so much, Carlotta," said I, "that I have bought this for
you."

Before I had completed the sentence, and before I knew what she was
after, her arms were round my neck and she was hugging me like a child.

I have never experienced such an odd sensation in my life as the touch
of Carlotta's fresh young arms upon my face and the perfume of spring
violets that emanated from her person. I released myself swiftly from
her indecorous demonstration.

"You mustn't do things like that," said I, severely. "In England, young
women are only allowed to embrace their grandfathers." Carlotta looked
at me wide-eyed, with the fox-terrier knitting of the forehead.

"But you are so good to me, Seer Marcous," she said.

"I hope you'll find many people good to you, Carlotta," I answered. "But
if you continue that method of expressing your appreciation, you may
possibly be misunderstood."

I had recovered from the momentary shock to my senses, and I laughed.
She fluttered a sidelong glance at me, and a smile as inscrutable as the
Monna Lisa's hovered over her lips.

"What would they do if they did not understand?"

"They would take you," I replied, fixing her sternly with my gaze, "they