phetua stamp, and that there was neither romance nor poetry in
allowing such a man to amuse himself at her expense.

Poor Mollie! It would be a humiliating view to take of a first conquest,
but it would be the best thing for her in the end. Dolly sighed over
the mere prospect of the task before her. She remembered what her first
conquest had been, and how implicitly she had believed in her new power,
and how trustingly she had swallowed every sugared nothing, and how she
had revelled in the field of possible romance which had seemed spread
before her, until she had awakened one fine day to find the first
flush of her triumph fading, and her adorer losing his attractions and
becoming rather tame. That had been long ago, even before Griffith's
time, but she had not forgotten the experience, and she knew it
would have been a severe shock to _her_ innocent self-love and
self-gratulation, if any one had hinted to her that there was a doubt
of her captive's honesty. She was roused from her reverie by a message
from Miss MacDowlas. It was only a commonplace sort of message. There
were some orders to be left at the poulterer's and fruiterer's, and some
bills to be paid in town, and, these affairs being her business, Miss
MacDowlas had good-naturedly ordered the carriage for her, as she had a
long round to make.

Dolly got up and laid her work aside. She was not sorry for the
opportunity of going out, so she ran up-stairs with some alacrity to
put on her hat, and, having dressed, went to Miss MacDowlas for more
particular instructions.

"You are looking rather pale and the drive will do you good," said that
lady. "Call at Pullet's and pay his bill, and order the things on his
list first. By the way, it was when I drove round to give orders to
Pullet the other day, that I saw your pretty sister with Gerald Chandos.
She is too pretty, far too pretty, and far too young and inexperienced,
to be giving private interviews to such people as Gerald Chandos,"
sharply.

"Private!" repeated Dolly, with some indignation. "I think that is a
mistake. Mr. Gerald Chandos has no need to make his interview private.
The doors are open to him at Bloomsbury Place so long as he behaves
himself."

"The more is the pity," answered Miss MacDowlas; "but that this was a
private interview I am certain. My pretty Miss Innocence came up the
street slowly with her handsome baby-face on fire, and two minutes later
Gerald Chandos followed her in a wondrou