en several that
far; but, strange to say, I never knew one who went over."

"Do not push torture to insufferance, madame," cried he, theatrically;
but, instead of laughing at him, she looked really alarmed at his words.

"Oh, Monsieur Pracontal," cried she, suddenly, "was that little song
you sung last night your own? I mean words and music both?"

He bowed with an air of modesty.

"What a nice talent, to be able to compose and write verses too! But
they tell me you are horribly satirical; that you make rhymes on people
impromptu, and sing them in the very room with them."

"Only, madame, when they are, what you call in English, bores."

"But I like bores, they are so nice and dull. Do you know, Monsieur
Pracontal, if it were not for bores, we English would have no
distinctive nationality? Our bores are essentially our own, and unlike
all the other species of the creature elsewhere."

"I respect them, and I bow to their superiority."

"It was very kind, very nice of you, to give up your ride over the
Campagna, and come here to sit with me in one of my dull moods, for
to-day I am very dull and dispirited. I have an odious headache, and
my sister has been scolding me, and I have had such unpleasant letters.
Altogether, it is a dark day with me."

"I am inexpressibly grieved."

"Of course you are; and so I told my sister you would be, when she
said it was a great imprudence on my part to admit you. Not that I don't
agree with her in great part, but I do detest being dictated to; is n't
it insupportable?"

"Quite so; the very worst form of slavery."

"It's true you want to take away the Bramleigh estates; but, as I said
to my sister, does not every one wish to win when he plays a game, and
do you detest your adversary for so natural a desire? I suppose if you
have a trump more than the Bramleigh's, you'll carry off the stakes."

"Ah, madame, how glad would I be to lay my cards on the table, if I
could be sure of such an opponent as yourself."

"Yes, I _am_ generous. It's the one thing I can say for myself. I'm all
for fighting the battle of life honorably and courteously, though I must
say one is sure to lose where the others are not equally high-minded.
Now I put it to yourself, M. Pracontal, and I ask, was it fair, was it
honest, was it decent of Colonel Bramleigh, knowing the insecure title
by which he held his estate, to make me his wife? You know, of course,
the difference of rank that separated us; you