"I have not been misbehaving myself at all, mon cher Saint Pere, as Mr.
Vavasour will answer for me, during the most delightful fortnight I ever
spent!"

"Delightful indeed!" said Elsley, as he was bound to say: but he said it
with an earnestness which made the Major fix his eyes on him. "Why
should he not find any and every fortnight as delightful as his last?"
said he to himself; but now Valencia began bantering him about his books
and his animals; wanting to look through his microscope, pulling off her
hat for the purpose, laughing when her curls blinded her, letting them
blind her in order to toss them back in the prettiest way, jesting at
him about "his old fogies" at the Linnaean Society; clapping her hands
in ecstasy when he answered that they were not old fogies at all, but
the most charming set of men in England, and that (with no offence to
the name of Scoutbush) he was prouder of being an F.L.S., than if he
were a peer of the realm,--and so forth; all which harmless pleasantry
made Elsley cross, and more cross--first, because he did not mix in it;
next, because he could not mix in it if he tried. He liked to be always
in the seventh heaven; and if other people were anywhere else, he
thought them bores.

At last,--"Now, if you will be good for five minutes," said the Major,
"I will show you something really beautiful."

"I can see that," answered she, with the most charming impudence, "in
another glass besides your magnifying one."

"Be it so: but look here, and see what an exquisite world there is, of
which you never dream; and which behaves a great deal better in its
station than the world of which you do dream!"

When Campbell spoke in that way, Valencia was good at once; and as she
went obediently to the microscope, she whispered, "Don't be angry with
me, mon Saint Pere."

"Don't be naughty, then, _ma chere enfant_" whispered he; for he saw
something about Elsley's face which gave him a painful suspicion.

She looked long, and then lifted up her head suddenly--"Do come and
look, Mr. Vavasour, at this exquisite little glass fairy, like--I cannot
tell what like, but a pure spirit hovering in some nun's dream! Come!"

Elsley came, and looked; and when he looked he started, for it was the
very same zoophyte which Thurnall had shown him on a certain memorable
day.

"Where did you find the fairy, mon Saint Pere?"

"I had no such good fortune. Mr. Thurnall, the doctor, gave it me."

"Thurnall?" said