could, the
fiends of Regret and Passion and the memory of a young, radiant,
impassioned face, which lured him to an unattainable future.

"Nina dearest," said Selina Ruskinstone, affectionately, the morning
after, "I hope you will not think me unkind--you know I have no wish
but for your good--but _don't_ you think it would be better to be a
little more--more reserved, a little less free, with Mr. Vaughan?"

"Explain yourself more clearly," said Nina, tranquilly. "Do you wish me
to send to Turkey for a veil and a guard of Bashi-Bazouks, or do you
mean that Mr. Vaughan is so attractive that he is better avoided, like a
mantrap or a Maelstrom?"

"Don't be ridiculous," retorted Augusta; "you know well enough what we
mean, and certainly you do run after him a great deal too much."

"You are so _very_ demonstrative," sighed Selina, "and it is so easily
misconstrued. It is not feminine to court any man so unblushingly."

Nina's eyes flashed, and the blood colored her brow. "I am not afraid of
being misconstrued by Mr. Vaughan," she said, haughtily; "gentlemen are
kinder and wiser judges in those things than our sex."

"I wouldn't advise you to trust to Ernest's tender mercies," sneered
Augusta.

"My dear child, remember his principles," sighed Selina; "his life--his
reputation----"

"Leave both him and me alone," retorted Nina, passionately. "I will not
stand calmly by to hear him slandered with your vague calumnies. You
preach religion often enough; practice it now, and show more common
kindness to your cousin: I do not say charity, for I am sick of the cant
word, and he is above your pity. You think me utterly lost because I
dance, and laugh, and enjoy my life, but, bad as _my_ principles are, I
should be shocked--yes, Selina, and I should think I merited little
mercy myself, were I as harsh and bitter upon any one as you are upon
him. How can _you_ judge him?--how can you say what nobility, and truth,
and affection--that will shame your own cold pharisaism--may lie in his
heart unrevealed?--how can you dare to censure _him_?"

In the door of the salon, listening to the lecture his young champion
was giving these two blue, opinionated, and strongly pious ladies, stood
Ernest, his face even paler than usual, and his eyes with a strange
mixture of joy and pain in them. Nina colored scarlet, but went forward
to meet him with undisguised pleasure, utterly regardless of the
sneering lips and averted eyes of the Miss Ru