and they fell into curt dialogues, which Mrs.
Lovell gave herself no concern to encourage too early.

Edward saw, and was astonished himself to feel that she had ceased to
breathe that fatal inciting breath, which made men vindictively emulous
of her favour, and mad to match themselves for a claim to the chief
smile. No perceptible change was displayed. She was Mrs. Lovell still;
vivacious and soft; flame-coloured, with the arrowy eyelashes; a
pleasant companion, who did not play the woman obtrusively among men,
and show a thirst for homage. All the difference appeared to be, that
there was an absence as of some evil spiritual emanation.

And here a thought crossed him--one of the memorable little evanescent
thoughts which sway us by our chance weakness; "Does she think me
wanting in physical courage?"

Now, though the difference between them had been owing to a scornful
remark that she had permitted herself to utter, on his refusal to accept
a quarrel with one of her numerous satellites, his knowledge of her
worship of brains, and his pride in his possession of the burdensome
weight, had quite precluded his guessing that she might haply suppose
him to be deficient in personal bravery. He was astounded by the
reflection that she had thus misjudged him. It was distracting;
sober-thoughted as he was by nature. He watched the fair simplicity of
her new manner with a jealous eye. Her management of the two youths
was exquisite; but to him, Edward, she had never condescended to show
herself thus mediating and amiable. Why? Clearly, because she conceived
that he had no virile fire in his composition. Did the detestable little
devil think silly duelling a display of valour? Did the fair seraph
think him anything less than a man?

How beautifully hung the yellow loop of her hair as she leaned over the
board! How gracious she was and like a Goddess with these boys, as he
called them! She rallied her partner, not letting him forget that he
had the honour of being her partner; while she appeared envious of
Algernon's skill, and talked to both and got them upon common topics,
and laughed, and was like a fair English flower of womanhood; nothing
deadly.

"There, Algy; you have beaten us. I don't think I'll have Lord Suckling
for my partner any more," she said, putting up her wand, and pouting.

"You don't bear malice?" said Algernon, revived.

"There is my hand. Now you must play a game alone with Lord Suckling,
and beat him