put her hand over her mistress' mouth to
silence her.

"Don't believe one word she says, Sir Edwin," cried Lady Jane; "if you
do I never _will_ like you." The emphasis on the "will" held out such
involuntary promise in case I did not believe the princess, that I at
once protested total want of faith in a single syllable she had said
about her, and vowed that I knew it could not be true; that I dared
not hope for such happiness.

You see, I had begun to make love to Jane almost before I was off my
knees to Mary, and, therefore, I had not been much hurt in Mary's
case. I had suffered merely a touch of the general epidemic, not the
lingering, chronic disease that kills.

Then I knew that the best cure for the sting which lies in a luckless
love is to love elsewhere, and Jane, as she stood there, so _petite_,
so blushing and so fair, struck me as quite the most pleasing antidote
I could possibly find, so I began at once to administer to myself the
delightful counter-irritant. It was a happy thought for me; one of
those which come to a man now and then, and for which he thanks his
wits in every hour of his after life.

But the winning of Jane was not so easy a matter as my vanity had
prompted me to think. I started with a handicap, since Jane had heard
my declaration to Mary, and I had to undo all that before I could do
anything else. Try the same thing yourself with a spirited girl,
naturally laughter-loving and coy, if you think it a simple, easy
undertaking. I began to fear I should need another antidote long
before I heard her sweet soul-satisfying "yes." I do not believe,
however, I could have found in the whole world an antidote to my love
for Jane. You see I tell you frankly that I won her, and conceal
nothing, so far as Jane and I are concerned, for the purpose of
holding you in suspense. I have started out to tell you the history of
two other persons--if I can ever come to it--but find a continual
tendency on the part of my own story to intrude, for every man is a
very important personage to himself. I shall, however, try to keep it
out.

In the course of my talk with Brandon I had, as I have said, told him
the story of Mary, with some slight variations and coloring, or rather
discoloring, to make it appear a little less to my discredit than the
barefaced truth would have been. I told him also about Jane; and, I
grieve and blush to say, expressed a confidence in that direction I
little felt.

It had been p