ust me
hereafter! I should despise myself.'

Not if you marry him!' said Evan, bitterly. And then thinking as men
will think when they look on the figure of a fair girl marching serenely
to a sacrifice, the horrors of which they insist that she ought to know:
half-hating her for her calmness--adoring her for her innocence: he
said: 'It rests with you, Rose. The world will approve you, and if your
conscience does, why--farewell, and may heaven be your help.'

She murmured, 'Farewell.'

Did she expect more to be said by him? What did she want or hope for
now? And yet a light of hunger grew in her eyes, brighter and brighter,
as it were on a wave of yearning.

'Take my hand once,' she faltered.

Her hand and her whole shape he took, and she with closed eyes let him
strain her to his breast.

Their swoon was broken by the opening of the door, where Old Tom
Cogglesby and Lady Jocelyn appeared.

'Gad! he seems to have got his recompense--eh, my lady?' cried Old Tom.
However satisfactorily they might have explained the case, it certainly
did seem so.

Lady Jocelyn looked not absolutely displeased. Old Tom was chuckling at
her elbow. The two principal actors remained dumb.

'I suppose, if we leave young people to settle a thing, this is how they
do it,' her ladyship remarked.

'Gad, and they do it well!' cried Old Tom.

Rose, with a deep blush on her cheeks, stepped from Evan to her mother.
Not in effrontery, but earnestly, and as the only way of escaping from
the position, she said: 'I have succeeded, Mama. He will take what I
offer.'

'And what's that, now?' Old Tom inquired.

Rose turned to Evan. He bent and kissed her hand.

'Call it "recompense" for the nonce,' said Lady Jocelyn. 'Do you still
hold to your original proposition, Tom?'

'Every penny, my lady. I like the young fellow, and she's a jolly little
lass--if she means it:--she's a woman.'

'True,' said Lady Jocelyn. 'Considering that fact, you will oblige me by
keeping the matter quiet.'

'Does she want to try whether the tailor's a gentleman still, my
lady-eh?'

'No. I fancy she will have to see whether a certain nobleman may be
one.'

The Countess now joined them. Sir Franks had informed her of her
brother's last fine performance. After a short, uneasy pause, she said,
glancing at Evan:--

'You know his romantic nature. I can assure you he was sincere; and even
if you could not accept, at least--'

'But we have accepted, Countess,' sa