but Kate saw at once, by his demure complacency, he
was delighted at the turn things had taken, and he gained nothing by it:
he found her a changed girl. Cold monosyllables were all he could
extract from her. He returned to the charge a hundred times, with
indomitable gallantry, but it was no use. Cold, haughty, sullen!

Her other neighbor fared little better; and in short the lady of the
house made a vile impression. She was an iceberg,--a beautiful
kill-joy,--a wet blanket of charming texture.

And presently Nature began to co-operate with her: long before sunset it
grew prodigiously dark; and the cause was soon revealed by a fall of
snow in flakes as large as a biscuit. A shiver ran through the people;
and old Peyton blurted out, "I shall not go home to-night." Then he
bawled across the table to his daughter: "_You_ are at home. We will
stay and take possession."

"O papa!" said Kate, reddening with disgust.

But if dulness reigned around the lady of the house, it was not so
everywhere. Loud bursts of merriment were heard at the bottom of the
table. Kate glanced that way in some surprise, and found it was Griffith
making the company merry,--Griffith of all people.

The laughter broke out at short intervals, and by and by became
uproarious and constant. At last she looked at Neville inquiringly.

"Our worthy host is setting us an example of conviviality," said he. "He
is getting drunk."

"O, I hope not," said Kate. "Has he no friend to tell him not to make a
fool of himself?"

"You take a great interest in him," said Neville, bitterly.

"Of course I do. Pray, do you desert your friends when ill luck falls on
them?"

"Nay, Mistress Kate, I hope not."

"You only triumph over the misfortunes of your enemies, eh?" said the
stinging beauty.

"Not even that. And as for Mr. Gaunt, I am not his enemy."

"O no, of course not. You are his best friend. Witness his arm at this
moment."

"I am his rival, but not his enemy. I'll give you a proof." Then he
lowered his voice, and said in her ear: "You are grieved at his losing
Bolton; and, as you are very generous and noble-minded, you are all the
more grieved because his loss is your gain." (Kate blushed at this
shrewd hit.) Neville went on: "You don't like him well enough to marry
him; and since you cannot make him happy, it hurts your good heart to
make him poor."

"It is you for reading a lady's heart," said Kate, ironically.

George proceeded steadily. "I'll