ly that affair about the Orley Farm were
settled. Augustus Staveley was a good-looking handsome fellow, but
then there was that in the manner and gait of Lucius Mason which
better suited her taste. There are ladies who prefer Worcester ware
to real china; and, moreover, the order for the Worcester ware had
already been given.

"Sophia, let a man be ever so light-hearted, there will come to him
moments of absolute and almost terrible earnestness."

"Even to you, Mr. Staveley."

"I have at any rate done nothing to deserve your scorn."

"Fie, now; you to talk of my scorn! You come here with soft words
which run easily from your tongue, feeling sure that I shall be proud
in heart when I hear them whispered into my ears; and now you pretend
to be angry because I do not show you that I am elated. Do you think
it probable that I should treat with scorn anything of this sort that
you might say to me seriously?"

"I think you are doing so."

"Have you generally found yourself treated with scorn when you have
been out on this pursuit?"

"By heavens! you have no right to speak to me so. In what way shall I
put my words to make them sound seriously to you? Do you want me to
kneel at your feet, as our grandfathers used to do?"

"Oh, certainly not. Our grandmothers were very stupid in desiring
that."

"If I put my hand on my heart will you believe me better?"

"Not in the least."

"Then through what formula shall I go?"

"Go through no formula, Mr. Staveley. In such affairs as these very
little, as I take it, depends on the words that are uttered. When
heart has spoken to heart, or even head to head, very little other
speaking is absolutely necessary."

"And my heart has not spoken to yours?"

"Well;--no;--not with that downright plain open language which a
heart in earnest always knows how to use. I suppose you think you
like me?"

"Sophia, I love you well enough to make you my wife to-morrow."

"Yes; and to be tired of your bargain on the next day. Has it ever
occurred to you that giving and taking in marriage is a very serious
thing?"

"A very serious thing; but I do not think that on that account it
should be avoided."

"No; but it seems to me that you are always inclined to play at
marriage. Do not be angry with me, but for the life of me I can never
think you are in earnest."

"But I shall be angry--very angry--if I do not get from you some
answer to what I have ventured to say."

"What, now; to-day