proffered kiss; and,
without much straining of words, 4. Merely to refrain from angry
expostulation and a rupture of acquaintance when one is kissed--this
last partaking rather of the nature of the ratification of an
unauthorized act, and being, in fact, the measure of Dora's
criminality. But the other shades of meaning caught her attention.

"You know it's untrue; I never did," she cried angrily. "I told you at
the time that no gentleman would have done it."

"Oh, you mean Ashforth, I suppose? It's always Ashforth."

"Well, he wouldn't."

"And some girls I know wouldn't forgive a man on Monday and round on
him on Wednesday."

"Oh, you needn't trouble to mention names. I know the paragon you're
thinking of!"

They were now at the hotel.

"Going in?" asked Charlie.

"Yes."

"I suppose we shall go to the Bois together?"

"I shall ask papa or Sir Roger to take me."

"Then I'll go with Lady Deane."

"I don't mind who you go with, Mr. Ellerton."

"I'll take care that you're annoyed as little as possible by my
presence,"

"It doesn't annoy me."

"Doesn't it, D----?"

"I don't notice it one way or the other."

"Oh."

"Good-by for the present, Mr. Ellerton."

"Good-by, Miss Bellairs; but I ought to thank you."

"What for?"

"For making it easy to me to do what's right," and Charlie turned on
his heel and made rapidly for the nearest cafe, where he ordered an
absinthe.

Dora went wearily up to her bedroom, and, sitting down, reviewed the
recent conversation. She could not make out how, or why, or where they
had begun to quarrel. Yet they had certainly not only begun but made
very fair progress, considering the time at their disposal. It had all
been Charlie's fault. He must be fond of that girl after all; if so, it
was not likely that she would let him see that she minded. Let him go
to Mary Travers, if--if he liked that sort of prim creature. She, Dora
Bellairs, would not interfere. She would have no difficulty in finding
someone who did care for her. Poor John! How happy he looked when he
saw her! It was quite touching.

He really looked almost--almost. To her sudden annoyance and alarm she
found herself finishing the sentence thus, "almost as Charlie did at
Avignon."

"Oh, he's worth a thousand of Charlie," she exclaimed, impatiently.

At half-past four Sir Roger Deane was waiting; in the hall. Presently
Dora appeared.

"Where are the others?" she asked.

"Charlie's having a drink. Your