expanse of sea,
dotted with the gleam of light-houses near and far, Dora broke the
silence to say quietly:

'I may as well tell you that Mr Whelpdale wants to know if I will marry
him.'

'The deuce he does!' cried Jasper, with a start. 'If I didn't half
suspect something of that kind! What astounding impudence!'

'You seriously think so?'

'Well, don't you? You hardly know him, to begin with. And then--oh,
confound it!'

'Very well, I'll tell him that his impudence astonishes me.'

'You will?'

'Certainly. Of course in civil terms. But don't let this make any
difference between you and him. Just pretend to know nothing about it;
no harm is done.'

'You are speaking in earnest?'

'Quite. He has written in a very proper way, and there's no reason
whatever to disturb our friendliness with him. I have a right to give
directions in a matter like this, and you'll please to obey them.'

Before going to bed Dora wrote a letter to Mr Whelpdale, not,
indeed, accepting his offer forthwith, but conveying to him with much
gracefulness an unmistakable encouragement to persevere. This was posted
on the morrow, and its writer continued to benefit most remarkably by
the sun and breezes and rock-scrambling of Sark.

Soon after their return to London, Dora had the satisfaction of paying
the first visit to her sister at the Dolomores' house in Ovington
Square. Maud was established in the midst of luxuries, and talked with
laughing scorn of the days when she inhabited Grub Street; her literary
tastes were henceforth to serve as merely a note of distinction, an
added grace which made evident her superiority to the well-attired and
smooth-tongued people among whom she was content to shine. On the one
hand, she had contact with the world of fashionable literature, on
the other with that of fashionable ignorance. Mrs Lane's house was a
meeting-point of the two spheres.

'I shan't be there very often,' remarked Jasper, as Dora and he
discussed their sister's magnificence. 'That's all very well in its way,
but I aim at something higher.'

'So do I,' Dora replied.

'I'm very glad to hear that. I confess it seemed to me that you were
rather too cordial with Whelpdale yesterday.'

'One must behave civilly. Mr Whelpdale quite understands me.'

'You are sure of that? He didn't seem quite so gloomy as he ought to
have been.'

'The success of Chit-Chat keeps him in good spirits.'

It was perhaps a week after this that Mrs Dolom