imself by "improving" the occasion on
the following Sunday.

For the next fifteen minutes Sir Lionel stood his ground, saying soft
nothings to Miss Todd, and then he also became absorbed among the
rubbers. He found that Miss Todd was not good at having love made to
her in public. She was very willing to be confidential, very willing
to receive flattery, attentions, hand-pressings, and the like. But
she would make her confidences in her usual joyous, loud voice; and
when told that she was looking remarkably well, she would reply that
she always did look well at Littlebath, in a tone that could not fail
to attract the attention of the whole room. Now Sir Lionel would fain
have been a little more quiet in his proceedings, and was forced to
put off somewhat of what he had to say till he could find Miss Todd
alone on the top of a mountain. 'Twas thus at least that he expressed
his thoughts to himself in his chagrin, as he took his place opposite
to Mrs. Shortpointz at the seventh and last establishment now formed
in the rooms.

The only idlers present were Miss Baker and Miss Todd. Miss Baker was
not quite happy in her mind. It was not only that she was depressed
about Caroline: her firm belief in the grammatical axiom before
alluded to lessened her grief on that score. But the conduct of Sir
Lionel made her uncomfortable; and she began to find, without at all
understanding why, that she did not like Miss Todd as well as she
used to do at Jerusalem. Her heart took Mr. O'Callaghan's side
in that little debate about the cards; and though Sir Lionel, in
leaving Miss Todd, did not come to her, nevertheless the movement was
agreeable to her. She was not therefore in her very highest spirits
when Miss Todd came and sat close to her on the sofa.

"I am so sorry you should be out," said Miss Todd. "But you see, I've
had so much to do at the door there, that I couldn't see who was
sitting down with who."

"I'd rather be out," said Miss Baker. "I am not quite sure that Mr.
O'Callaghan is not right." This was her revenge.

"No; he's not a bit right, my dear. He does--just what the man says
in the rhymes--what is it? you know--makes up for his own little
peccadilloes by damning yours and mine. I forget how it goes. But
there'll be more in by-and-by, and then we'll have another table.
Those who come late will be more in your line; not so ready to peck
your eyes out if you happen to forget a card. That Miss Ruff is
dreadful." Here