g in a
direction closer to the fire, rather than from it. "I had no idea I
was. I"--doubtfully, "am I speaking to Miss Massereene?"

"You are. And I--I know I am speaking to Captain Shadwell."

"Yes," slowly. "That is my name,--Philip Shadwell."

"We are cousins, then," says Molly, kindly, as though desirous of
putting him at his ease. "I hope we shall be, what is far better,
friends."

"We must be; we are friends," returns he, hastily, so full of surprise
and self-reproach as to be almost unconscious of his words.

Is this the country cousin full of freckles and _mauvaise honte_,
who was to be pitied, and lectured, and taught generally how to
behave?--whose ignorance was to draw forth groans from pit and gallery
and boxes? A hot blush at his own unmeant impertinence thrills him from
head to foot. Were she ever, by any chance, to hear what he had said.
Oh, perish the thought!--it is too horrible!

A little laugh from Molly somewhat restores his senses.

"You should not stare so," she says, severely, with an adorable attempt
at a frown. "And you need not look at me all at once, you know,
because, as I am going to stay here a whole month, you will have plenty
of time to do it by degrees, without fatiguing yourself. By the bye,"
reproachfully, "I have come a journey to-day, and am dreadfully tired,
and you have never even offered me a chair; must I get one for myself?"

"You have driven any manners I may possess out of my head," replies he,
laughing, too, and pushing toward her the coziest chair the room
contains. "Your sudden entrance bewildered me; you came upon me like an
apparition; more especially as people in this house never get to the
drawing-room until exactly one minute before dinner is announced."

"Why?"

"Lest we should bore each other past forgiveness. Being together as we
are every day, and all day long, one can easily imagine how a very
little more pressure would smash the chains of politeness. You may have
heard of the last straw and its disastrous consequences?"

"I have. I am sorry I frightened you. To-morrow night I shall know
better, and shall leave you to your silent musings in peace."

"No; don't do that!" says her companion, earnestly. "On no account do
that. I think the half-hour before dinner, sitting by the fire, alone,
as we are now, the best of the whole day; that is, of course, if one
spends it with a congenial companion."

"Are you a congenial companion?"

"I don't know," smi