tate, be it observed, which, whatever its
effect upon the 'lady of his love,' makes a man particularly odious to
the people around him, and he is singularly fortunate if it make him not
ridiculous also.

The docile or submissive was not the remarkable element in Nina's nature.
She usually resisted advice, and resented anything like dictation from any
quarter. Indeed, they who knew her best saw that, however open to casual
influences, a direct show of guidance was sure to call up all her spirit
of opposition. It was, then, a matter of actual astonishment to all to
perceive not only how quietly and patiently she accepted Walpole's comments
and suggestions, but how implicitly she seemed to obey them.

All the little harmless freedoms of manner with Dick Kearney and O'Shea
were now completely given up. No more was there between them that
interchange of light persiflage which, presupposing some subject of common
interest, is in itself a ground of intimacy.

She ceased to sing the songs that were their favourites. Her walks in the
garden after breakfast, where her ready wit and genial pleasantry used to
bring her a perfect troop of followers, were abandoned. The little projects
of daily pleasure, hitherto her especial province, were changed for a calm
subdued demeanour which, though devoid of all depression, wore the impress
of a certain thoughtfulness and seriousness.

No man was less observant than old Kearney, and yet even he saw the change
at last, and asked Kate what it might mean. 'She is not ill, I hope,' said
he, 'or is our humdrum life too wearisome to her?'

'I do not suspect either,' said Kate slowly. 'I rather believe that as Mr.
Walpole has paid her certain attentions, she has made the changes in her
manner in deference to some wishes of his.'

'He wants her to be more English, perhaps,' said he sarcastically.

'Perhaps so.'

'Well, she is not born one of us, but she is like us all the same, and
I'll be sorely grieved if she'll give up her light-heartedness and her
pleasantry to win that Cockney.'

'I think she has won the Cockney already, sir.'

A long low whistle was his reply. At last he said, 'I suppose it's a very
grand conquest, and what the world calls "an elegant match"; but may
I never see Easter, if I wouldn't rather she'd marry a fine dashing
young fellow over six feet high, like O'Shea there, than one of your
gold-chain-and-locket young gentlemen who smile where they ought to
laugh, and pic