ht to make a fool of
himself; and Mr. Coffin, who had sat quietly bolt upright, and looking
at the opposite wall, now rose as quietly, and with a face which tried
to look utterly unconcerned, was walking out of the room: another
minute, and Lady Bath's prophecy about the feast of the Lapithae might
have come true.

But Frank's heart and head never failed him.

"Mr. Coffin!" said he, in a tone which compelled that gentleman to turn
round, and so brought him under the power of a face which none could
have beheld for five minutes and borne malice, so imploring, tender,
earnest was it. "My dear Mr. Coffin! If my earnestness has made me
forget even for a moment the bounds of courtesy, let me entreat you to
forgive me. Do not add to my heavy griefs, heavy enough already, the
grief of losing a friend. Only hear me patiently to the end (generously,
I know, you will hear me); and then, if you are still incensed, I can
but again entreat your forgiveness a second time."

Mr. Coffin, to tell the truth, had at that time never been to Court; and
he was therefore somewhat jealous of Frank, and his Court talk, and his
Court clothes, and his Court company; and moreover, being the eldest
of the guests, and only two years younger than Frank himself, he was a
little nettled at being classed in the same category with some who were
scarce eighteen. And if Frank had given the least hint which seemed
to assume his own superiority, all had been lost: but when, instead
thereof, he sued in forma pauperis, and threw himself upon Coffin's
mercy, the latter, who was a true-hearted man enough, and after all had
known Frank ever since either of them could walk, had nothing to do but
to sit down again and submit, while Frank went on more earnestly than
ever.

"Believe me; believe me, Mr. Coffin, and gentlemen all, I no more
arrogate to myself a superiority over you than does the sailor hurled
on shore by the surge fancy himself better than his comrade who is still
battling with the foam. For I too, gentlemen,--let me confess it, that
by confiding in you I may, perhaps, win you to confide in me,--have
loved, ay and do love, where you love also. Do not start. Is it a matter
of wonder that the sun which has dazzled you has dazzled me; that
the lodestone which has drawn you has drawn me? Do not frown, either,
gentlemen. I have learnt to love you for loving what I love, and to
admire you for admiring that which I admire. Will you not try the same
lesso