should be recognised by some word spoken between herself and
the lover. The word between herself and the lover must be the first
thing. She herself, personally, was not very fond of Sir Griffin; but
on such an occasion as this she could smile and endure the bear. Sir
Griffin was a bear,--but so also was Lucinda. "The rabbits and hares
All go in pairs; And likewise the bears In couples agree." Mrs.
Carbuncle consoled herself with the song, and assured herself that it
would all come right. No doubt the she-bears were not as civil to the
he-bears as the turtle doves are to each other. It was, perhaps, her
misfortune that her niece was not a turtle dove; but, such as she
was, the best had been done for her. "Dear Sir Griffin," she said on
the first available opportunity, not caring much for the crowd, and
almost desirous that her very words should be overheard, "my darling
girl has made me so happy by what she has told me."

"She hasn't lost any time," said Sir Griffin.

"Of course she would lose no time. She is the same to me as a
daughter. I have no child of my own, and she is everything to me. May
I tell you that you are the luckiest man in Europe?"

"It isn't every girl that would suit me, Mrs. Carbuncle."

"I am sure of that. I have noticed how particular you are. I won't
say a word of Lucinda's beauty. Men are better judges of that than
women; but for high, chivalrous spirit, for true principle and
nobility, and what I call downright worth, I don't think you will
easily find her superior. And she is as true as steel."

"And about as hard, I was beginning to think."

"A girl like that, Sir Griffin, does not give herself away easily.
You will not like her the less for that now that you are the
possessor. She is very young, and has known my wish that she should
not engage herself to any one quite yet. But, as it is, I cannot
regret anything."

"I daresay not," said Sir Griffin.

That the man was a bear was a matter of course, and bears probably
do not themselves know how bearish they are. Sir Griffin, no doubt,
was unaware of the extent of his own rudeness. And his rudeness
mattered but little to Mrs. Carbuncle, so long as he acknowledged the
engagement. She had not expected a lover's raptures from the one more
than from the other. And was not there enough in the engagement to
satisfy her? She allowed, therefore, no cloud to cross her brow as
she rode up alongside of Lord George. "Sir Griffin has proposed,
and