ught to be true? Let her hide her head in the presence of devils!
Be true, then, Mell, be earnest! This frivolous trifling with life's
most serious concerns shows so small in a being born to a noble
heritage! It is only excusable in a natural _niais_, or a woman
unendowed with a soul."

Jerome here paused. After a moment spent in thought, he approached his
companion very near, and in a voice of passionate tenderness resumed:

"My darling! you can never know what hours of torment, what days of
suffering, this conduct of yours has cost me. But I believe you have
erred more through thoughtlessness, and a pardonable feeling of
resentment--more through love turned into madness, than any settled
determination to do wrong. But now let it go no further. Hasten to set
yourself right with Rube. No matter whether you and I are destined to
be happy in each other's love or not; at all hazards be true to the
immortal within you. Promise me to undo the mischief you have done;
promise me to be a good, true, useful woman, thinking more of duty
than your own interest and pleasure. The world is overstocked with
butterflies, but it needs good women, and I want you to be one of
them--the best! My darling, you will promise me?"

Mell was much affected; she hung her head and her bosom heaved.

"Do you hesitate?" cried Jerome, mistaking her silence. "Promise me,
Mell, I implore, I beseech you!"

"Theatricals?" asked a voice in the doorway.

It was Rube.

"Rehearsing your parts?" he again inquired, coming in.

"Yes," replied Jerome. "For are we not all players upon a stage?"

"And what play have they decided upon?" next questioned the
unsuspecting Rube, who, carrying no concealed weapons himself, was
never on the lookout for concealed weapons on others.

"I don't recall the name," said Jerome. "Do you, Miss Creecy? It is
'Lover's Quarrel,' or some such twaddle, I think."

Mell thought it was something of that kind, but she furthermore
expressed the opinion that it would be well-nigh impossible to get it
up in time for the delectation of the Honorable Archibald.

"Which is no great pity," declared the off-hand Rube; "I wish he'd
take himself elsewhere to be delectated."

There was no doubt as to Rube's preferences for a brother-in-law;
which, however, did not take away from the awkwardness of this remark.
Not suspicious, neither was Rube obtuse; he noted a singular
contraction on Jerome's brow, he noted a strange confusion in Mell