u remember her nose?
It was celestial. When that deed on which we agreed was sealed, signed,
and delivered, without hope of change, I meant to send you my real
photo, but somehow I didn't. I waited until we should meet; and now we
have met and---- Why do you look so disconsolate? Surely, surely, I am
an improvement on Mary Jane?"

"It isn't that," he says, "but--what a fool I have been!"

"You have indeed," quickly. "The idea of letting that odious old man
see your discomfiture! By the bye, does my 'ugliness go to the bone,'
Sir Penthony?"

"Don't! When I realize my position I hate myself."

"Could you not even see my hair was yellow, whilst Mary Jane's was
black,--a sooty black?"

"How could I see anything? Your veil was so thick, and, besides, I
never doubted the truth of----"

"Oh, that veil! What trouble I had with it!" laughs Cecil. "First I
doubled it, and then nearly died with fright lest you should imagine me
the Pig-faced Lady, and insist on seeing me."

"Well, and if I had?"

"Without doubt you would have fallen in love with me," coquettishly.

"Would not that have been desirable? Is it not a good thing for a man
to fall in love with the woman he is going to marry?"

"Not unless the woman falls in love with him," with a little expressive
nod that speaks volumes.

"Ah! true," says Sir Penthony, rather nettled.

"However, you showed no vulgar curiosity on the occasion, although I
think Mr. Lowry, who supported you at the last moment, suggested the
advisability of seeing your bride. Ah, that reminds me he lives near
here. You will be glad to renew acquaintance with so particular a
friend."

"There was nothing particular about our friendship; I met him by chance
in London at the time, and--er--he did as well as any other fellow."

"Better, I should say. He is a particular friend of mine."

"Indeed! I shouldn't have thought him your style. Like Cassius, he used
to have a 'lean and hungry look.'"

"Used he? I think him quite good-looking."

"He must have developed, then, in body as in intellect. Three years ago
he was a very gaunt youth indeed."

"Of course, Stafford," breaks in Mr. Amherst's rasping voice, "we can
all make allowances for your joy on seeing your wife again after such a
long absence. But you must not monopolize her. Remember she is the life
of our party."

"Thank you, Mr. Amherst. What a delightful compliment!" says Cecil,
with considerable _empressement_. "Sir Penthony was j