like water; for the same reason that you, Miss Amy, and Miss
Wayne, would probably not like such a man."

Arthur Merlin looked fixedly at Hope Wayne.

"What kind of man is Mr. Newt?" asked Hope, faintly coloring. She was
trying herself.

"Don't you know him?" asked Arthur, abruptly and keenly.

"Yes," replied Hope, as she worked on, only a little more rapidly.

"Well, what kind of man do you think him to be?" continued Arthur,
nervously.

"That is not the question," answered Hope, calmly.

Lawrence Newt and Amy Waring looked on during this little conversation.
They both wanted Hope to like Arthur. They both doubted how Abel might
have impressed her. Lawrence Newt had not carelessly said that neither
Amy nor Hope would probably like Abel.

"Miss Hope is right, Arthur," said he. "She asks what kind of man my
nephew is. He is a brilliant man--a fascinating man."

"So was Colonel Burr," said Hope Wayne, without looking up.

"Exactly, Miss Hope. You have mentioned the reason why neither you nor
Amy would like my nephew."

Hope and Amy understood. Arthur Merlin was bewildered.

"I don't quite understand," said he; "I am such a great fool."

Nobody spoke.

"I am sorry for that poor little Grace Plumer," Lawrence Newt gravely
said.

"Don't you be troubled about little Grace Plumer. She can take proper
care of herself," answered Arthur, merrily.

Hope Wayne's busy fingers did not stop. She remembered Miss Grace Plumer,
and she did not agree with Arthur Merlin. Hope did not know Grace; but
she knew the voice, the manner, the magnetism to which the gay girl was
exposed,

"If Mr. Godefroi Plumer is really as rich as I hear," said Lawrence, "I
think we shall have a Mrs. Abel Newt in the autumn. Poor Mrs. Abel Newt!"

He shook his head with that look, mingled of feeling and irony, which
was very perplexing. The tone in which he spoke was really so full of
tenderness for the girl, that Hope, who heard every word and felt every
tone, was sure that Lawrence Newt pitied the prospective bride sincerely.

"I beg pardon, Mr. Newt, and Miss Wayne," said Arthur Merlin; "but how
can a man have a high respect for women when he sees his sister do what
Fanny Newt has done?"

"Why should a man complain that his sister does precisely what he is
trying to do himself?" asked Lawrence.

CHAPTER XLI.

A LITTLE DINNER.

When Mrs. Dinks told her husband of Alfred's marriage, the Honorable
Budlong said it was a great