d I hope you will _never_ come
back. There!"

And--will you believe it?--even after this there is no deluge.

So she goes to the right, and he goes to the left, and when too late
repent their haste. But pride is ever at hand to tread down tenderness,
and obstinacy is always at the heels of pride; and out of this "trivial
cause" see what a "pretty quarrel" has been sprung.

* * * * *

"The long and weary day" at length has "passed away." The dinner has
come to an unsuccessful end, leaving both Luttrell and his divinity
still at daggers drawn. There are no signs of relenting about Molly, no
symptoms of weakness about Tedcastle: the war is civil but energetic.

They glower at each other through each course, and are positively
devoted in their attentions to John and Letitia. Indeed, they seem bent
on bestowing all their conversational outbreaks on these two worthies,
to their unmitigated astonishment. As a rule, Mr. and Mrs. Massereene
have been accustomed to occupy the background; to-night they are
brought to the front with a vehemence that takes away their breath, and
is, to say the least of it, embarrassing.

Letitia,--dear soul,--who, though the most charming of women, could
hardly be thought to endanger the Thames, understands nothing; John, on
the contrary, comprehends fully, and takes a low but exquisite delight
in compelling the antagonists to be attentive to each other.

For instance:

"Luttrell, my dear fellow, what is the matter with you this evening?
How remiss you are! Why don't you break some walnuts for Molly? I would
but I don't wish Letitia to feel slighted."

"No, thank you, John,"--with a touch of asperity from Molly,--"I don't
care for walnuts."

"Oh, Molly Bawn! what a tarididdle! Only last night I quite shuddered
at the amount of shells you left upon your plate. 'How can that
wretched child play such pranks with her digestion?' thought I, and
indeed felt thankful it had not occurred to you to swallow the shells
also."

"Shall I break you some, Miss Massereene?" asks Luttrell, very coldly.

"No, thank you," ungraciously.

"Luttrell, did you see that apple-tree in the orchard? I never beheld
such a show of fruit in my life. The branches will hardly bear the
weight when it comes to perfection. It is very worthy of admiration.
Molly will show it to you to-morrow: won't you, Molly?"

Luttrell, hastily: "I will go round there myself after breakfast an