e uncomfortable--not quite so sure
of yourself and everything about you." Again she waited a minute, her
eyes set on his face and watching it keenly. "I wonder if I could," she
ended slowly.

"Upon my word, I don't see how it's to be done." He was openly chaffing
her now.

"Oh, I don't know that you're invulnerable," she said, with a toss of
her head. "Don't defy me, Mr Tristram. I don't mind telling you that it
would be very good for you if you weren't----"

"Appreciated?" he suggested ironically.

"No; I was going to say if you weren't Mr Tristram, or the future Lord
Tristram of Blent."

If she had hoped to catch him off his guard, she was mistaken. Not a
quiver passed over his face as he remarked:

"I'm afraid Providence can hardly manage that now, either for my good or
for your amusement, Madame Zabriska, much as it might conduce to both."

The Imp loved fighting, and her blood was getting up. He was a good foe,
but he did not know her power. He must not either--not yet, anyhow. If
he patronized her much more, she began to feel that he would have to
know it some day--not to his hurt, of course; merely for the reformation
of his manners.

"Meanwhile," he continued, as he lit a cigarette, "I'm not seriously
disappointed that attentions paid to one lady fail to please another.
That's not uncommon, you know. By the way, we're not on the path to the
greenhouses; but you don't mind that? They were a pretext, no doubt? Oh,
I don't want to hurry back. Your uncle shall have his fair show. How
well you're mastering English!"

At this moment Mina hated him heartily; she swore to humble him--before
herself, not before the world, of course; she would give him a fright
anyhow--not now, but some day; if her temper could not stand the strain
better, it would be some day soon, though.

"You see," Harry's calm exasperating voice went on, "it's just possible
that you're better placed at present as an observer of our manners than
as a critic of them. I hope I don't exceed the limits of candor which
you yourself indicated as allowable in this pleasant conversation of
ours?"

"Oh well, we shall see," she declared, with another nod. The vague
threat (for it seemed that or nothing) elicited a low laugh from Harry
Tristram.

"We shall," he said. "And in the meantime a little sparring is amusing
enough. I don't confess to a hit at present; do you, Madame Zabriska?"

Mina did not confess, but she felt the hit all the same; if