bud! not
so much as the mercy of a glance will the lady afford him." And he burst
into the ballad of King Francis:

"Souvent femme varie,
Bien, fol est qui s'y fie!"

and laughed his prodigious delight at the aptness of his quotation.

Mr. Caryll put up his gold-rimmed quizzing-glass, and directed through
that powerful weapon of offence an eye of supreme displeasure upon the
singer. He could not contain his rage, yet from his languid tone none
would have suspected it. "Sir," said he, "ye've a singular unpleasant
voice."

Mr. Craske, thrown out of countenance by so much directness, could
only stare; the same did the others, though some few tittered, for
Mr. Craske, when all was said, was held in no great esteem by the
discriminant.

Mr. Caryll lowered his glass. "I've heard it said by the uncharitable
that ye were a lackey before ye became a plagiarist. 'Tis a rumor I
shall contradict in future; 'tis plainly a lie, for your voice betrays
you to have been a chairman."

"Sir--sir--" spluttered the poetaster, crimson with anger and
mortification. "Is this--is this--seemly--between gentlemen?"

"Between gentlemen it would not be seemly," Mr. Caryll agreed.

Mr. Craske, quivering, yet controlling himself, bowed stiffly. "I have
too much respect for myself--" he gasped.

"Ye'll be singular in that, no doubt," said Mr. Caryll, and turned his
shoulder upon him.

Again Mr. Craske appeared to make an effort at self-control; again he
bowed. "I know--I hope--what is due to the Lady Mary Deller, to--to
answer you as--as befits. But you shall hear from me, sir. You shall
hear from me."

He bowed a third time--a bow that took in the entire company--and
withdrew in high dudgeon and with a great show of dignity. A pause
ensued, and then the Lady Mary reproved Mr. Caryll.

"Oh, 'twas cruel in you, sir," she cried. "Poor Mr. Craske! And to dub
him plagiarist! 'Twas the unkindest cut of all!"

"Truth, madam, is never kind."

"Oh, fie! You make bad worse!" she cried.

"He'll put you in the pillory of his verse for this," laughed Collis.
"Ye'll be most scurvily lampooned for't."

"Poor Mr. Craske!" sighed the Lady Mary again.

"Poor, indeed; but not in the sense to deserve pity. An upstart impostor
such as that to soil a lady with his criticism!"

Lady Mary's brows went up. "You use a singular severity, sir," she
opined, "and I think it unwise in you to grow so hot in the defence of a