r form.

"I can't answer for 'they,'" says Baltimore, "but"----he stops dead
short here. If he _had_ been going to say anything, the desire to carry
out his intention dies upon the spot. "No, I am not aware that 'they' or
anybody wants you particularly at this moment. Pray sit down again."

"I have had quite a long rest already."

"You look tired, however. _Are_ you?"

"Not in the least."

"Give me this dance," then says he, half mockingly, yet with a terrible
earnestness in his voice.

"Give it to _you_! Thank you. No."

"Fearful of contamination?" with a smiling sneer.

"Pray spare me your jibes," says she very coldly, her face whitening.

"Pray spare me your presence, you should rather say. Let us have the
truth at all hazards. A saint like you should be careful."

To this she makes him no answer.

"What!" cries he, sardonically; "and will you miss this splendid
opportunity of giving a sop to your Cerberus? Of conciliating your
bugbear? your _bete noire_? your _fear of gossip_?"

"I fear nothing"--icily.

"You do, however. Forgive the contradiction," with a sarcastic
inclination of the head. "But for this fear of yours you would have cast
me off long ago, and bade me go to the devil as soon as--nay, the sooner
the better. And indeed if it were not for the child----By the bye, do
you forget I have a hold on _him_--a stronger than yours?"

"I _forget_ nothing either," returns she as icily as before; but now a
tremor, barely perceptible, but terrible in its intensity, shakes her
voice.

"Hah! You need not tell me _that_. You are relentless as--well, 'Fate'
comes in handy," with a reckless laugh. "Let us be conventional by all
means, and it is a good old simile, well worn! You decline my proposal
then? It is a sensible one, and should suit you. Dance with me to-night,
when all the County is present, and Mother Grundy goes to bed with a
sore heart. Scandal lies slain. All will cry aloud: '_There they go!_
Fast friends in spite of all the lies we have heard about them.' Is it
possible you can deliberately forego so great a chance of puzzling our
neighbors?"

"I can."

"Why, where is your sense of humor? One trembles for it! To be able to
deceive them all so deliriously; to send them home believing us on good
terms, a veritable loving couple"--he breaks into a curious laugh.

"This is too much," says she, her face now like death. "You would insult
me! Believe me, that not to spare myself all the gossi