e things"--and so on.

In vain. Darrell laughed, recovered himself, changed the subject; but as
they walked quickly back to the house, Ashe knew, perchance, that he had
lost a friend; and Darrell's smarting soul had scored another reckoning
against a day to come.

* * * * *

As they neared the house they found a large group still lingering on the
lawn, and Kitty just emerging from a garden door. She came out
accompanied by the handsome Cambridge lad who had been her partner at
Lady Crashaw's dance. He was evidently absorbed in her society, and they
approached in high spirits, laughing and teasing each other.

"Well, Kitty, how's the bruised one?" said Ashe, as he sank into a chair
beside Mrs. Alcot.

"Doing finely," said Kitty. "I shall send him home to-night."

"Meanwhile, have you put him up in my dressing-room? I only ask for
information."

"There wasn't another corner," said Kitty.

"There!" Ashe appealed to gods and men. "How do you expect me to dress
for dinner?"

"Oh, now, William, don't be tiresome!" said Kitty, impatiently. "He was
bruised black and blue"--("Serve him right for getting in the way,"
grumbled Lord Grosville)--"and nurse and I have done him up in arnica."

She came to stand by Ashe, talking in an undertone and as fast as
possible. The little Dean, who never could help watching her, thought
her more beautiful--and wilder--than ever. Her eyes--it was hardly
enough to say they shone--they glittered--in her delicate face; her
gestures were more extravagant than he remembered them; her movements
restlessness itself.

Ashe listened with patience--then said:

"I can't help it, Kitty--you really must have him removed."

"Impossible!" she said, her cheek flaming.

"I'll go and talk to Wilson; he'll manage it," said Ashe, getting up.

Kitty pursued him, arguing incessantly.

He lounged along, turning every now and then to look at her, smiling and
demurring, his hat on the back of his head.

"You see the difference," said Mrs. Alcot, in Darrell's ear. "Last year
Kitty would have got her way. This year she won't."

Darrell shrugged his shoulders.

"These domesticities should be kept out of sight, don't you think?"

Madeleine Alcot looked at him curiously.

"Did you have a pleasant walk?" she said.

Darrell made a little face.

"The great man was condescending."

Madeleine Alcot's face was still interrogative.

"A touch of the <i>folie des grandeur