hrew around Miss Herbert I intended should be
lasting. The traits in which I would invest myself to _her_ eyes, my
personal prowess, coolness in danger, skill in all manly exercises,
together with a large range of general gifts and acquirements, I meant
to accompany me through all time; and I am a sufficient believer in
magnetism to feel assured that by imposing upon _her_ I should go no
small part of the road to deceiving myself, and that the first step in
any gift is to suppose you are eminently suited to it, is a well-known
and readily acknowledged maxim. Women grow pretty from looking in the
glass; why should not men grow brave from constantly contemplating their
own courage?

"Yes, Potts, be a Prince, and see how it will agree with you!"

CHAPTER XXI. HOW I PLAY THE PRINCE.

Mrs. Keats came down, and our dinner that day was somewhat formal. I
don't think any of ns felt quite at ease, and, for my own part, it was
a relief to me when the old lady asked my leave to retire after her
coffee. "If you should feel lonely, sir, and if Miss Herbert's company
would prove agreeable--"

"Yes," said I, languidly, "that young person will find me in the
garden." And therewith I gave my orders for a small table under a great
weeping-ash, and the usual accompaniment of my after-dinner hours, a
cool flask of Chambertin. I had time to drink more than two-thirds of
my Burgundy before Miss Herbert appeared. It was not that the hour hung
heavily on me, or that I was not in a mood of considerable enjoyment,
but somehow I was beginning to feel chafed and impatient at her long
delay. Could she possibly have remonstrated against the impropriety of
being left alone with a young man? Had she heard, by any mischance, that
impertinent phrase by which I designated her? Had Mrs. Keats herself
resented the cool style of my permission by a counter-order? "I wish I
knew what detains her!" cried I to myself, just as I heard her step on
the gravel, and then saw her coming, in very leisurely fashion, up the
walk.

Determined to display an indifference the equal of her own, I waited
till she was almost close; and then, rising languidly, I offered her a
chair with a superb air of Brummelism, while I listlessly said, "Won't
you take a seat?"

It was growing duskish, but I fancied I saw a smile on her lip as she
sat down.

"May I offer you a glass of wine or a cigar?" said I, carelessly.

"Neither, thank you," said she, with gravity.

"Alm