ht to a little jealousy, as I maintain, whatever my
fair readers may say to the contrary.

It was because she knew he was engaged, very likely, that Miss Lyddy
permitted herself to speak so frankly in Mr. George's praise. When they
were alone--and this blessed chance occurred pretty often at Mr. Van den
Bosch's house, for we have said he was constantly absent on one errand
or the other--it was wonderful how artlessly the little creature would
show her enthusiasm, asking him all sorts of simple questions about
himself, his genius, his way of life at home and in London, his projects
of marriage, and so forth.

"I am glad you are going to be married, oh, so glad!" she would say,
heaving the most piteous sigh the while; "for I can talk to you frankly,
quite frankly as a brother, and not be afraid of that odious politeness
about which they were always scolding me at boarding-school. I may speak
to you frankly; and if I like you, I may say so, mayn't I, Mr. George?"

"Pray, say so," says George, with a bow and a smile. "That is a kind of
talk which most men delight to hear, especially from such pretty lips as
Miss Lydia's."

"What do you know about my lips?" says the girl, with a pout and an
innocent look into his face.

"What, indeed?" asks George. "Perhaps I should like to know a great deal
more."

"They don't tell nothin' but truth, anyhow!" says the girl; "that's why
some people don't like them! If I have anything on my mind, it must
come out. I am a country-bred girl, I am--with my heart in my mouth--all
honesty and simplicity; not like your English girls, who have learned I
don't know what at their boarding-schools, and from the men afterwards."

"Our girls are monstrous little hypocrites, indeed!" cries George.

"You are thinking of Miss Lamberts? and I might have thought of them;
but I declare I did not then. They have been at boarding-school; they
have been in the world a great deal--so much the greater pity for them,
for be certain they learned no good there. And now I have said so, of
course you will go and tell Miss Theo, won't you, sir?"

"That she has learned no good in the world? She has scarce spoken to men
at all, except her father, her brother, and me. Which of us would teach
her any wrong, think you?"

"Oh, not you! Though I can understand its being very dangerous to be
with you!" says the girl, with a sigh.

"Indeed there is no danger, and I don't bite!" says George, laughing.

"I didn't say