th sung in the chorus," she retorted, snappishly.

"That is neither here nor there," he said. "Why, what does it matter how
we go down, when we shall all meet there on a common footing? It was an
obviously simple arrangement--Sloane Street is on my way, whether I go
by road or rail--"

"Oh, pray don't make any apology to _me--I_ am not interested in the
question," she observed, in a most lofty manner, as she still affected
to be examining her dress in the mirror.

"I wasn't making any apology to anybody," he said, bluntly.

"Or explanation," she continued, in the same tone. "You seem to have a
strange fancy for foreigners, Mr. Moore; and I suppose they are glad to
be allowed to practice talking with any one who can speak decent
English."

"Nina--I mean Miss Ross--is an old friend of mine," he said, just
beginning to chafe a little. "It is a very small piece of courtesy that
I should offer to see her safely down to Richmond, when she is a
stranger, with hardly any other acquaintance in London--"

"But pray don't make any excuse to _me_--what have _I_ to do with it?"
Miss Burgoyne said, sweetly. And then, as she gathered up her long train
and swung it over her arm, she added, "Will you kindly open the door for
me, Mr. Moore?" And therewith she passed out and along the corridor and
up into the wings--he attending her, for he also was wanted in this
scene.

Well, Miss Burgoyne might drive down to Richmond with Lord Denysfort or
with any one else; he was not going to forsake Nina. On the afternoon
appointed, just as it was dark, he called at the house in Sloane Street,
and found the two young ladies ready, with nothing but their bonnets to
put on. Both of them, he thought, were very prettily dressed; but Nina's
costume had a somewhat severe grace, and, indeed, rather comported with
Nina's demeanor towards this little French chatterbox, whom she seemed
to regard with a kind of grave and young-matronly consideration and
forbearance. When they had got into the brougham which was waiting
outside for them and had started away for Putney Bridge, it was Mlle.
Girond who was merry and excited and talkative; Nina only listened, in
good-humored amusement. Mlle. Girond had never been to Richmond, but she
had heard of it; she knew all about the beautiful view and the terrace
overlooking the river, and she was promising herself the romance and
charm of a stroll in the moonlight.

"I don't see much sign of that full moon as yet,"