e teeth and hoofs of wicked Sheelah.

"But you will not stay, Harold? You will come home?" I said.

"I mean it," he answered.

"Then I don't so much mind," said I, with infinite relief; and he
added, thinking that I wanted further reassurance, that he should never
give up trying to get Prometesky's pardon; and that this was only a
journey for supplies, and to see his old friend, and perhaps to try
whether anything could be done about that other unhappy Harry. I
pressed him to promise me that he would return and settle here, but
though he said he would come back, to settling at home he answered,
"That depends;" and though I could not see, I knew he was biting his
moustache, and guessed, poor dear fellow, that it depended on how far
he should be able to endure the sight of Eustace and Viola married. I
saw now that I had been blind not to perceive before that his heart had
been going out to Viola all this time, while he thought he was courting
her for Eustace, and I also had my thoughts about Viola, which made it
no very great surprise to me, when, in a few days more, intelligence
came that Eustace might be expected at home, and he made his appearance
in a petulant though still conceited mood, that made me suspect his
wooing had not been prosperous, though I knew nothing till Harold told
me that he was not out of heart, though Viola had cut him short and
refused to listen to him, for her mother said she was a mere child who
was taken by surprise, and that if he were patient and returned to the
charge she would know her own mind better.

Harold was certainly more exhilarated than he chose to avow to himself
on this discovery, and the next week came a letter from Lady Diana, and
a short note from Dermot himself, both saying he had not been so well,
and begging Harold to come and assist in the removal, since Dermot
protested that otherwise he could not bear the journey, and his mother
declared that she should be afraid to think of it for him.

Viola's hitherto constant correspondence had ceased; I drew my own
auguries, but I had to keep them to myself, for Harold started off the
next day in renewed spirits, and I had Eustace on my hands in a very
strange state, not choosing or deigning to suppose himself rejected,
and yet exceedingly, angry with all young ladies for their silliness
and caprices, while he lauded Lady Diana up to the skies, and abused
Dermot, who, I think, had laughed at him visibly enough to be at least