her presence. That was the idea
which first came upon her. She was sure that Harry would behave well.
Why should not a favored lover on such occasions always behave well? But
how would Mountjoy conduct himself when brought face to face with his
rival? As Florence thought of it, she remembered that when last they met
the quarrel between them had been outrageous. And Mountjoy had been the
sinner, while Harry had been made to bear the punishment of the sin.

Harry, when he was told that Miss Mountjoy was at home, had at once
walked in and opened for himself the door of the front room downstairs.
There he found Florence and Mountjoy Scarborough. Mrs. Mountjoy was
still up-stairs in her bedroom, and was palpitating with fear as she
thought of the anger of the two combative lovers. To her belief, Harry
was, of the two, the most like to a roaring lion, because she had heard
of him that he had roared so dreadfully on that former occasion. But she
did not instantly go down, detained in her bedroom by the eagerness of
her fear, and by the necessity of resolving how she would behave when
she got there.

Harry, when he entered, stood a moment at the door, and then, hurrying
across the room, offered Scarborough his hand. "I have been so sorry,"
he said, "to hear of your loss; but your father's health was such that
you could not have expected that his life should be prolonged." Mountjoy
muttered something, but his mutterings, as Florence had observed, were
made in courtesy. And the two men had taken each other by the hand;
after that they could hardly fly at each other's throats in her
presence. Then Harry crossed to Florence and took her hand. "I never get
a line from you," he said, laughing, "but what you scold me. I think I
escape better when I am present; so here I am."

"You always make wicked propositions, and of course I scold you. A girl
has to go on scolding till she's married, and then it's her turn to get
it."

"No wonder, then, that you talk of three years so glibly. I want to be
able to scold you."

All this was going on in Mountjoy's presence, while he stood by, silent,
black, and scowling. His position was very difficult,--that of hearing
the billing and cooing of these lovers. But theirs also was not too
easy, which made the billing and cooing necessary in his presence. Each
had to seem to be natural, but the billing and cooing were in truth
affected. Had he not been there, would they not have been in each
othe