oked down his rising anger. Hoffland did not observe it,
but continued as coolly as ever:

"You know how much curiosity the fair sex have," he said, "and my plan
was for Mowbray to describe me beforehand to his sister--as I know he
will."

"Pardon me, sir," said Denis coldly; "but I do not perceive your
drift. Doubtless it arises from my stupidity, but such is the fact, to
use your favorite expression."

"Why, it is much plainer than any pikestaff," Hoffland replied,
laughing; "listen, and I will explain. Mowbray will return home this
evening, and after tea he will say to his sister, 'I have a new friend
at college, Lucy--the handsomest, brightest, most amiable and
fascinating youth I ever saw.' You see he will call me a 'youth;'
possibly this may excite Miss Lucy's curiosity, and she will ask more
about me; and then Mowbray will of course expatiate on my various and
exalted merits, as every warm-hearted man does when he speaks of his
friends. Then Miss Lucy will imagine for herself a _beau ideal_ of
grace, elegance, beauty, intelligence and wit, far more than human.
She will fall in love with it--and then, when she is hopelessly
entangled in this passion for the creation of her fancy, I will make
my appearance. Do you not understand now, sir?"

Denis frowned and muttered a reply which it had been well for Hoffland
to have heard.

"I think it very plain," continued the young man; "with all those
graces of mind and person which a kind Providence has bestowed upon
me, I still feel that I could expect nothing but defeat, contending
with the ideal of a young girl's heart. Oh, sir, you can't imagine
how fanciful they are--believe me, women very seldom fall in love
with real men: it is the image of their dreams which they sigh over
and long to meet. This is all that they really love."

"Ah?" said Denis, in a freezing tone.

"Yes," Hoffland said; "and applying this reasoning to the present
subject, you cannot fail to understand my motives for refusing
Mowbray's kind invitation. Once in love with my shadow, Lucy will not
fall in love with me. To tell you the truth, I could not afford to
have her----"

"Mr. Hoffland!"

"Why, Mr. Denis--did any thing hurt you? Perhaps----"

"It was nothing, sir!" said Denis, with a flushed face.

"Well, to conclude," said Hoffland; "I could not accept Lucy's love
were she to offer it to me, and for this reason I have staid away. I
am myself fettered by another object; I could not m