ence
is clear. I certainly shall not go."

The bolt struck the granite fairly, but it did not shiver off one
splinter, nor even leave a stain. Royston only remarked, "Then for
to-day it is useless to say _au revoir_;" and so, raising his cap,
passed on.

The poor _mignonne_ had a very rough time of it soon afterward. Cecil
was morally and physically incapable of scolding any one; but she was
very severe on the sin of vacillation and yielding to unauthorized
interference. The culprit did not attempt to justify herself; she only
said, "They both wanted me to go so much, and I did not like to vex
Harry." Then she began to coax and pet her monitress in the pretty,
childish way which interfered so much with matronly dignity, till the
latter was brought to think that she had been cruelly harsh and stern;
at last she got so penitent that she offered to accompany her friend,
and lend the light of her countenance to Madame de Verzenay. For this
infirmity of purpose many female Dracos would have ordered her off to
instant execution--very justly. That silly little Fanny only kissed her,
and said, "She was a dear, kind darling." What can you expect of such
irreclaimably weak-minded offenders? They ought to be sentenced to six
months' hard labor, supervised by Miss Martineau; perhaps even this
would not work a permanent cure. Still, on The Tresilyan's part, it was
an immense effort of self-denial. She was well aware how she laid
herself open to Royston Keene's satire, and how unlikely he was this
time to spare her. Only perfect trust or perfect indifference can make
one careless about giving such a chance to a known bitter tongue.

However, having made up her mind to the self-immolation, she proceeded
to consider how best she should adorn herself for the sacrifice. Others
have done so in sadder seriousness. Doubtless, Curtius rode at his last
leap without a speck on his burnished mail: purple, and gold, and gems
flamed all round Sardanapalus when he fired the holocaust in Nineveh:
even that miserable, dastardly Nero was solicitous about the marble
fragments that were to line his felon's grave. So it befell that, on
this particular evening, Cecil went through a very careful toilet,
though it was as simple as usual; for the ultra-gorgeous style she
utterly eschewed. The lilac trimmings of her dress broke the dead white
sufficiently, but not glaringly, with the subdued effect of color that
you may see in a campanula. The _coiffure_