or him, that however grovelling
his undirected tastes, he is too truly noble to plume himself upon the
reputation they have procured him. Why did I defend you? Women, you
know, do not shrink from Don Juans--even provincial Don Juans--as they
should, perhaps, for their own sakes! You are all of you dangerous, if a
woman is not strictly on her guard. But you will respect your champion,
will you not?'

Harry was about to reply with wonderful briskness. He stopped, and
murmured boorishly that he was sure he was very much obliged.

Command of countenance the Countess possessed in common with her sex.
Those faces on which we make them depend entirely, women can entirely
control. Keenly sensible to humour as the Countess was, her face sidled
up to his immovably sweet. Harry looked, and looked away, and looked
again. The poor fellow was so profoundly aware of his foolishness that
he even doubted whether he was admired.

The Countess trifled with his English nature; quietly watched him bob
between tugging humility and airy conceit, and went on:

'Yes! I will trust you, and that is saying very much, for what
protection is a brother? I am alone here--defenceless!'

Men, of course, grow virtuously zealous in an instant on behalf of the
lovely dame who tells them bewitchingly, she is alone and defenceless,
with pitiful dimples round the dewy mouth that entreats their
guardianship and mercy!

The provincial Don Juan found words--a sign of clearer sensations
within. He said:

'Upon my honour, I'd look after you better than fifty brothers!'

The Countess eyed him softly, and then allowed herself the luxury of a
laugh.

'No, no! it is not the sheep, it is the wolf I fear.'

And she went through a bit of the concluding portion of the drama of
Little Red Riding Hood very prettily, and tickled him so that he became
somewhat less afraid of her.

'Are you truly so bad as report would have you to be, Mr. Harry?' she
asked, not at all in the voice of a censor.

'Pray don't think me--a--anything you wouldn't have me,' the youth
stumbled into an apt response.

'We shall see,' said the Countess, and varied her admiration for the
noble creature beside her with gentle ejaculations on the beauty of
the deer that ranged the park of Beckley Court, the grand old oaks
and beeches, the clumps of flowering laurel, and the rich air swarming
Summer.

She swept out her arm. 'And this most magnificent estate will be yours?
How happy will sh