o her eyes, and I exclaimed
regretfully, "Oh, Frances, I am surprised and sorry!"

"Yes, yes! I, too, was surprised, and was so sorry that I wept through
the whole night following my first sight of him, and between shame for
what I felt and longing to see him again, I suffered terribly. I prayed
for strength against this, my first temptation, and then my heart shrunk
in fear lest I should never again be tempted. The next day I walked out
on the Bourne Path toward Hamilton House and met him. To my shame I
confess that I looked at him. He stopped, bowed low before me, and asked
if he might introduce himself, since there was no one else to do that
office for him. He said that soon Lord St. Albans would be up from
London and would introduce him to my father. But having seen me the day
before at St. Albans, he was unable to wait; therefore, he was at that
moment on his way to Sundridge, hoping to see me. He seemed confused and
shy, but from what you say, I fear he was not."

"Oh, yes, he was," I interrupted, in fine irony. "George Hamilton is as
shy and as modest as the devil himself."

"I fear it is true," she answered smiling faintly and sighing.

I could see plainly that she did not look upon satanic modesty as a
serious fault in itself, and I fear it is not objectionable to her sex.
It is the manner of brazenness more than the fact which is offensive.
George's modest-faced boldness was both alluring and dangerous.

As she progressed she grew eager in her narrative, and after two or three
false starts, continued: "Then he said that Count Hamilton, our neighbor,
was his brother. I was silent for a moment, but presently was so foolish
as to say that I had seen him at St. Albans and had asked a shopkeeper
who he was. You see I was confused. I had not at all intended to say that
I had seen him, and certainly would have concealed the fact that I had
asked about him. But I said what I said because I could not help it."

"On that ground it may be excusable," I suggested.

"No, no," she protested. "It can be excused on no grounds. But I did it,
and it can't be helped now. Without waiting for permission, he turned,
and we walked together almost to Hamilton House. I suppose, under the
circumstances, he considered it best not to ask for a permission which
might have been refused, and from his standpoint doubtless he was right.
Take without asking seems to be man's best method with woman. When I saw
we were approaching Hamilton