dull, depressed look,
and moved languidly to draw down the blind.

'Oh, he isn't quite up to the mark. But it's nothing serious, I think.'

'Miss. Lord quite well?--We haven't seen much of her lately.'

'I don't know why, I'm sure.--Nobody can depend upon her very much.'

'Well, I'll leave you,' said the other, with a dreary look about the
room. 'The table ought to have been cleared by now--but that's nothing
new.'

'Confounded servants,' muttered Horace.

'Oh yes, the servants,' was Peachey's ironical reply.

As soon as he was left alone, Horace turned out the gas. Then he stood
near the door, trembling with amorous anticipation. But minutes went
by; his impatience grew intolerable; he stamped, and twisted his fingers
together. Then of a sudden the door opened.

'Why, it's dark, there's nobody here.'

Fanny discovered her mistake. She was seized and lifted off her feet.

'Oh! Do you want to eat me? I'll hit you as hard as I can, I will!
You're spoiling my dress?'

The last remonstrance was in a note that Horace did not venture to
disregard.

'Strike a light, silly! I know you've done something to my dress.'

Horace pleaded abjectly to be forgiven, and that the room might remain
shadowed; but Fanny was disturbed in temper.

'If you don't light the gas, I'll go at once.'

'I haven't any matches, darling.'

'Oh, just like you! You never have anything. I thought every man carried
matches.'

She broke from him, and ran out. Wretched in the fear that she might not
return, Horace waited on the threshold. In the drawing-room some one
was singing 'The Maid of the Mill.' It came to an end, and there sounded
voices, which the tormented listener strove to recognise. For at least
ten minutes he waited, and was all but frantic, when the girl made her
appearance, coming downstairs.

'Never do that again,' she said viciously. 'I've had to unfasten my
things, and put them straight. What a nuisance you are!'

He stood cowed before her, limp and tremulous.

'There, light the gas. Why couldn't you come into the drawing-room, like
other people do?'

'Who is there?' asked the young man, when he had obeyed her.

'Go and see for yourself.'

'Don't be angry, Fanny.' He followed her, like a dog, as she walked
round the table to look at herself in the mirror over the fireplace. 'It
was only because I'm so fond of you.'

'Oh, what a silly you are!' she laughed, seating herself on the arm of
an easy-chair. 'Go ahead!