eyes, nor the look of passionate
yearning that crossed his face as he stood beside her, or she would
scarcely have been surprised when he bent down suddenly and pressed his
lips to her forehead. She started to her feet, colouring vividly and
angrily. "How dare you, Percival!----" she began. But she could not
finish the sentence. Kitty called her from the other room. Kitty's face
appeared; and the curtain was drawn aside by an unseen hand with a great
clatter of rings upon the pole.

"Where have you been all this time?" said she. "Isabel wants you,
Lizzie. Percival, Mr. Vivian talks of going."

Elizabeth vanished through the curtain. Percival had not even time to
breathe into her ear the "Forgive me" with which he meant to propitiate
her. He was not very penitent for his offence. He thought that he was
sure of Elizabeth's pardon, because he thought himself sure of
Elizabeth's love. But, as a matter of fact, that stolen kiss did not at
all advance his cause with Elizabeth Murray.

He did not see her again that night--a fact which sent him back to his
lodging in an ill-satisfied frame of mind. He and Vivian shared a
sitting-room between them; and, on their return from Mr. Heron's, they
disposed themselves for their usual smoke and chat. But neither of them
seemed inclined for conversation. Rupert lay back in a long
lounging-chair; Percival turned over the leaves of a new publication
which had been sent to him for review, and uttered disparaging comments
upon it from time to time.

"I hope all critics are not so hypercritical as you are," said Vivian at
last, when the volume had finally been tossed to the other end of the
room with an exclamation of disgust.

"Pah! why will people write such abominable stuff?" said Percival.
"Reach me down that volume of Bacon's Essays behind you; I must have
something to take the taste out of my mouth before I begin to write."

Vivian handed him the book, and watched him with some interest as he
read. The frown died away from his forehead, and the mouth gradually
assumed a gentler expression before he had turned the first page. In
five minutes he was so much absorbed that he did not hear the question
which Vivian addressed to him.

"What position," said Rupert, deliberately, "does Miss Murray hold in
your father's house?"

"Eh? What? What position?" Away went Percival's book to the floor; he
raised himself in his chair, and began to light his pipe, which had gone
out. "What do y