aptain Bervie who quarreled with you?"

"Yes."

"Was it about me?"

"Yes."

"What did he say?"

"He said I had committed an impropriety in waltzing with you."

"Why?"

"Because your parents disapproved of your waltzing in a public
ballroom."

"That's not true! What did he say next?"

"He said I had added tenfold to my offense, by waltzing with you in such
a manner as to make you the subject of remark to the whole room."

"Oh! did you let him say that?"

"No; I contradicted him instantly. And I said, besides, 'It's an insult
to Miss Bowmore, to suppose that she would permit any impropriety.'"

"Quite right! And what did he say?"

"Well, he lost his temper; I would rather not repeat what he said when
he was mad with jealousy. There was nothing to be done with him but to
give him his way."

"Give him his way? Does that mean fight a duel with him?"

"Don't be angry--it does."

"And you kept my name out of it, by pretending to quarrel at the
card-table?"

"Yes. We managed it when the cardroom was emptying at supper-time, and
nobody was present but Major Mulvany and another friend as witnesses."

"And when did you fight the duel?"

"The next morning."

"You never thought of _me_, I suppose?"

"Indeed, I did; I was very glad that you had no suspicion of what we
were at."

"Was that all?"

"No; I had your flower with me, the flower you gave me out of your
nosegay, at the ball."

"Well?"

"Oh, never mind, it doesn't matter."

"It does matter. What did you do with my flower?"

"I gave it a sly kiss while they were measuring the ground; and (don't
tell anybody!) I put it next to my heart to bring me luck."

"Was that just before he shot at you?"

"Yes."

"How did he shoot?"

"He walked (as the seconds had arranged it) ten paces forward; and then
he stopped, and lifted his pistol--"

"Don't tell me any more! Oh, to think of my being the miserable cause of
such horrors! I'll never dance again as long as I live. Did you think he
had killed you, when the bullet wounded your poor neck?"

"No; I hardly felt it at first."

"Hardly felt it? How he talks! And when the wretch had done his best to
kill you, and when it came to your turn, what did you do?"

"Nothing."

"What! You didn't walk your ten paces forward?"

"No."

"And you never shot at him in return?"

"No; I had no quarrel with him, poor fellow; I just stood where I was,
and fired in the air--"

Before he could stop her, Ch