marks with unpalatable truths. You never say, 'I told you so,' or 'I
knew how it would be,' or 'didn't I warn you?' or anything else equally
objectionable. I really would rather a person boxed my ears outright
than give way to such phrases as those, pretending they know all about
a catastrophe, after it has happened. And," says her ladyship, with a
pensive sigh, "you _might_ perhaps (had you so chosen) have
accused me of flirting a leetle bit with that stupid Talbot."

"Well, indeed, perhaps I might, dear," says Molly, innocently.

"What, are you going to play the traitor after all that flattery? and
if so, what am I to say to you about your disgraceful encouragement of
Captain Shadwell?"

"I wonder if I did encourage him?" says Molly, contritely. "At first,
perhaps unconsciously, but lately I am sure I didn't. Do you know,
Cecil, I positively dislike him? he is so dark and silent, and still
persistent. But when a man keeps on saying he is miserable for love of
you, and that you are the cause of all his distress, and that he would
as soon be dead as alive, because you cannot return his affection, how
can one help feeling a little sorry for him?"

"I don't feel in the least sorry for Talbot. I thought him extremely
unpleasant and impertinent, and I hope with all my heart he is very
unhappy to-night, because it will do him good."

"Cecil, how cruel you are!"

"Well, by what right does he go about making fierce love to married
women, compelling them to listen to his nonsense whether they like it
or not, and getting them into scrapes? I don't break my heart over Sir
Penthony, but I certainly do not wish him to think badly of me."

"At least," says Molly, relapsing again into the blues, "you have this
consolation: you cannot lose Sir Penthony."

"That might also be looked on as a disadvantage. Still, I suppose there
is some benefit to be gained from my position," says Cecil,
meditatively. "_My_ lover (if indeed he is my lover) cannot play
the false knight with _me_; I defy him to love--and to ride away.
There are no breakers ahead for me. He is mine irrevocably, no matter
how horribly he may desire to escape. But you need not envy me; it is
sweeter to be as you are,--to know him yours without the shadow of a
tie. He is not lost to you."

"Effectually. What! do you think I would submit to be again engaged to
a man who could fling me off for a chimera, a mere trick of the
imagination? If he were to beg my pardon on h