ough the ordeal,
administered ruthlessly, and with a refinement of cruelty known only
to ourselves. Even Mrs. Lumley, my own familiar friend, had no mercy.

"We ought to congratulate you, I conclude, Miss Coventry," said one.

"He's a relation of yours, is he not?" inquired another.

"Only a very great _friend_," laughed Mrs. Lumley, shaking her curls.

"It's a great marriage for _him_," some one else went on to say--"far
better than he deserves. Poor thing! he'll lead her a sad life; he's a
shocking flirt!"

Now, if there is one thing to my mind more contemptible than another,
it is that male impostor whom ladies so charitably designate by the
mild term "a flirt." It is all fair for _us_ to have our little
harmless vanities and weaknesses. We are shamefully debarred from the
nobler pursuits and avocations of life; so we may be excused for
passing the time in such trivial manoeuvres as we can invent to excite
the envy of our own and triumph over the pride of the opposite sex.
But that a man should lower himself to act the part of a slave, "tied
to an apron-string," and voluntarily be a fool, without being an
honest one--it is too degrading!

Such a despicable being does us an infinity of harm: he encourages us
to display all the worst points of the female character; he cheats us
of our due amount of homage from many a noble heart, and perhaps robs
us of our own dignity and self-respect. Yet such is the creature we
encourage in our blind vanity, and whilst we vote him "so pleasant and
agreeable," temper our commendation with the mild remonstrance,
"though I am afraid he's rather a flirt!"

I saw the drawing-room on that morning was no place for me; so I
folded my work, and curbing my tongue, which I own had a strong
inclination to take its part in the war of words, I sought my own
room, and found there, in addition to the litter and discomfort
inseparable from the process of packing, a letter just arrived by the
post. It was in Cousin Amelia's hand, and bore the Dangerfield
postmark. "What now?" I thought, dreading to open it lest it might
contain some fresh object of annoyance, some further inquiries or
remarks calculated to irritate my already overdriven temper out of due
bounds.

"Cousin Amelia never writes to me unless she has something unpleasant
to say," was my mental observation, "and a very little more would fill
the cup to overflowing. Whatever happens, I am determined not to cry;
rather than face all