ess or
indifference; for, even if my feelings were changed towards you, you
are not a person that one would, or even could, avoid speaking of,
especially to papa, who must have felt such interest in you! I am
sure, even if I had not known you, there were a thousand occasions
which would have called your name to my lips, had they been
uncontrolled by other considerations.'

'Come, Venetia, I am not going to submit to compliments from you,'
said Lord Cadurcis; 'no blarney. I wish you only to think of me as
you did ten years ago. I will not have our hearts polluted by the
vulgarity of fame. I want you to feel for me as you did when we were
children. I will not be an object of interest, and admiration, and
fiddlestick to you; I will not submit to it.'

'Well, you shall not,' said Venetia, laughing. 'I will not admire you
the least; I will only think of you as a good little boy.'

'You do not love me any longer, I see that,' said Cadurcis.

'Yes I do, Plantagenet.'

'You do not love me so much as you did the night before I went to
Eton, and we sat over the fire? Ah! how often I have thought of that
night when I was at Athens!' he added in a tone of emotion.

'Dear Plantagenet,' said Venetia, 'do not be silly. I am in the
highest spirits in the world; I am quite gay with happiness, and all
because you have returned. Do not spoil my pleasure.'

'Ah, Venetia! I see how it is; you have forgotten me, or worse than
forgotten me.'

'Well, I am sure I do not know what to say to satisfy you,' said
Venetia. 'I think you very unreasonable, and very ungrateful too, for
I have always been your friend, Plantagenet, and I am sure you know
it. You sent me a message before you went abroad.'

'Darling!' said Lord Cadurcis, seizing her hand, 'I am not ungrateful,
I am not unreasonable. I adore you. You were very kind then, when all
the world was against me. You shall see how I will pay them off, the
dogs! and worse than dogs, their betters far; dogs are faithful. Do
you remember poor old Marmion? How we were mystified, Venetia! Little
did we think then who was Marmion's godfather.'

Venetia smiled; but she said, 'I do not like this bitterness of yours,
Plantagenet. You have no cause to complain of the world, and you
magnify a petty squabble with a contemptible coterie into a quarrel
with a nation. It is not a wise humour, and, if you indulge it, it
will not be a happy one.'

'I will do exactly what you wish on every subject, said