teeth and gave him a
look of bitter reproach.

"What does this mean?" said Hubert, flushing up to the roots of his
hair. "I told you everything the next morning, Cynthia; and I
acknowledged to you that I loved you only because I thought that I was
too miserable a wretch for you to cast a sigh upon. You have changed
since then--not I."

Cynthia suddenly rose from her chair.

"I hear the carriage," she said abruptly; "Madame is at the door. There
is no use in continuing this conversation."

"No use at all," said Hubert, who by this time was not in the best of
tempers. "Perhaps you would rather that I did not accompany you
to-night, Miss West?" "Oh, pray come!" said Cynthia, with a heartless
little laugh. "Madame will never forgive me if I deprive her of a
cavalier! It does not matter to me."

Hubert turned at once to Madame della Scala, and offered her his arm
with the courtesy of manner which she always averred she found in so few
Englishmen, but which he displayed to perfection. Cynthia followed, not
waiting for him to lead her to the carriage. He was about to hand her to
her seat, but she had so elaborately encumbered herself with gloves,
fan, bouquet, and sweeping silken train, that it seemed as if she could
not possibly disentangle her hands in time to receive his help. She took
her seat beside Madame with her usual smiling nonchalance, and the two
ladies waited for Mr. Lepel to take the opposite seat. He took off his
hat and made a sweeping bow.

"Madame," he said, "I am unfeignedly sorry, but I find that
circumstances will not allow me to accompany you this evening. Will you
pardon me therefore if I decline the honor of the seat you have offered
me?"

This stately mode of speech was intended to pacify Madame della Scala,
who liked to be addressed as if she were a princess; he knew that she
would be angry enough at his defection. Before she had recovered herself
so far as to speak, he fell back and signed to the coachman to drive on.
They had left him far behind before Madame ceased to vent her
exclamations of wrath, despair, and disappointment.

"What can he mean by 'circumstances'?" This was the phrase that rose
most frequently to her tongue. "'Circumstances will not allow me'! But
that is nonsense--absolutely nonsense!"

"I think by 'circumstances' he meant me," said Cynthia at last--by which
remark she diverted all Madame's wrath upon her own unlucky head.

She did not seem to mind however. She look