t resignation.

"I'm afraid I shan't be able to remember _all_ the words," says Dicky,
regretfully. "There is any amount of verses, and all as funny as they
can be. But I've a shocking memory."

"For small mercies--" says Sir Mark, mildly.

"Nevertheless I'll try," says Dicky, valiantly, moving toward the piano.

"No don't, Dicky," exclaims Sir Mark, with tearful entreaty. "It would
break my heart if Portia were to hear you for the first time at a
disadvantage. 'I had rather than forty shillings you had your book of
songs and sonnets here,' but as you haven't, why, wait till you have.
Now," says Sir Mark, casting a warning look upon the others; "I've done
_my_ part--hold him tight, some of you, or he will certainly do it
still."

"Oh! if you don't _want_ to hear me," returns Dicky, with unruffled good
humor. "Why can't you say so at once, without so much beating about the
bush. I don't want to sing."

"Thank you, Dicky," says Sir Mark, sweetly.

Stephen is sitting close to Dulce, and is saying something to her in a
low tone. Her answers, to say the least of them, are somewhat irrelevant
and disconnected. Now she rises, and, murmuring to him a little
softly-spoken excuse, glides away from him to the door, opens it, and
disappears.

At this Portia, who has never ceased to watch her, grows even paler than
she was before, and closes one hand so tightly on her fan that part of
the ivory breaks with a little click.

Five minutes pass; to her they might be five interminable hours; and
then, when she has electrified Mr. Browne by saying "yes" twice and "no"
three times in the wrong places, she, too, gets up from her seat and
leaves the room.

* * * * *

Before the fire in his own room Fabian is standing, with Dulce crying
her heart out upon his breast. He has one arm around her, but his eyes
are looking into a sad futurity, and he is gently, absently, tapping her
shoulder with his left hand. He is frowning, not angrily, but
thoughtfully, and there is an expression in his dark eyes that suggests
a weariness of the flesh, and a longing to flee away and be at rest.

"Do not take this thing so much to heart," he says, in a rather
mechanical tone, addressing his little sister, who is grieving so
bitterly because of the slight that has been cast upon him from so
unexpected a quarter. "She told you the truth; the very first moment my
eyes met hers I knew she had heard all, and--had condemn