"They'll be here to-morrow evening, Ju. Unless they were quite sure the
Culduffs had left for Naples, they would not venture here; and perhaps
they were so far in the right."

"I don't think so; at least, if I had been Nelly, I 'd have
given anything for such an opportunity of presenting myself to my
distinguished relations, and terrifying them by the thought of those
attentions that they can neither give me nor deny me."

"No, no, Julia, nothing of the kind; there would be malice in that."

"Do I deny it? A great deal of malice in it, and there's no good comedy
in life without a slight flavor of spiteful-ness. Oh, my poor dear
George, what a deep sigh that was! How sad it is to think that all your
example and all your precept do so little, and that your sister acquires
nothing by your companionship except the skill to torment you."

"But why will you say those things that you don't mean--that you
couldn't feel?"

"I believe I do it, George, just the way a horse bounds and rears
and buck-leaps. It does not help him on his road, but it lightens the
journey; and then it offers such happy occasion for the exercise of that
nice light hand of my brother to check these aberrations. You ought
to be eternally grateful for the way I develop your talents as a
moralist--I was going to say a horse-breaker."

"I suppose," said he, after a moment's silence, "I ought to go over to
Sir Marcus and learn from him exactly how matters stand here."

"No, no; never mind him--at least, not this evening. Bores are bad
enough in the morning, but after dinner, when one really wants to think
well of their species, they are just intolerable; besides, I composed a
little song while you were away, and I want you to hear it, and then you
know we must have some serious conversation about Sir Marcus; he is to
be here to-morrow."

"I declare, Ju--"

"There, don't declare, but open the pianoforte, and light the candles;
and as I mean to sing for an hour at least, you may have that cigar that
you looked so lovingly at, and put back into the case. Ain't I good for
you, as the French say?"

"Very good, too good for me," said he, kissing her, and now every trace
of his sorrow was gone, and he looked as happy as might be.

CHAPTER XLV. A PLEASANT DINNER

Prudent people will knit their brows and wise people shake their heads
at the bare mention of it, but I cannot help saying that there is a
wonderful fascination in those little gatherings