looking
into his said that was not such a desperate thing to do if he chose the
right object.

"Who taught me?" He raised his left hand. She did not respond to the
overture, except to snap the hand with her index-finger, and was back in
her chair again, regarding him demurely.

"I think we shall go abroad soon." The little foot was on the fender
again, and the face had the look of melancholy resolution.

"And leave Mr. Lyon without any protection here?" The remark was made in
a tone of good-humored raillery, but for some reason it seemed to sting
the girl.

"Pshaw!" she said. "How can you talk such nonsense? You," and she rose
to her feet in indignation--"you to advise an American girl to sell
herself for a title--the chance of a title. I'm ashamed of you!"

"Why, Carmen," he replied, flushing, "I advised nothing of the sort. I
hadn't the least idea. I don't care a straw for Mr. Lyon."

"That's just it; you don't care," sinking into her seat, still
unappeased. "I think I'll tell Mr. Lyon that he will have occupation
enough to keep him in this country if he puts his money into that scheme
you were talking over the other night."

Henderson was in turn annoyed. "You can tell him anything you like.
I'm no more responsible for his speculations than for his domestic
concerns."

"Now you are offended. It's not nice of you to put me in the wrong when
you know how impulsive I am. I wish I didn't let my feelings run away
with me." This said reflectively, and looking away from him. And
then, turning towards him with wistful, pleading eyes: "Do you know, I
sometimes wish I had never seen you. You have so much power to make a
person very bad or very good."

"Come, come," said Henderson, rising, "we mustn't quarrel about an
Englishman--such old friends."

"Yes, we are very old friends." The girl rose also, and gave him her
hand. "Perhaps that's the worst of it. If I should lose your esteem I
should go into a convent." She dropped his hand, and snatching a bunch
of violets from the table, fixed them in his button-hole, looking up in
his face with vestal sweetness. "You are not offended?"

"Not a bit; not the least in the world," said Henderson, heartily,
patting the hand that still lingered upon his lapel.

When he had gone, Carmen sank into her chair with a gesture of vexation,
and there were hard lines in her sweet face. "What an insensible stick!"
Then she ran up-stairs to her mother, who sat in her room reading one