m extremely puzzled and disconcerted by the behavior of
his charmer.

After this, the summer of Mr. Ramsay's discontent set in. There was
nothing that he could actually complain of in Bijou's treatment of him,
but it was plain that she had changed. She was vastly more polite than
before, but much less kind. Their intimacy seemed a thing of the past
century. It was Mr. Heathcote now who, partly from idleness, partly from a
desire to tease his friend, went constantly to the Browns', and showed
Bijou various attentions, which she accepted with very pronounced
satisfaction. It was with Miss Price now that Mr. Ramsay rode and walked
and talked,--Miss Price, whose free-and-easiness, vapid chatter,
artificiality, and sentimentalism contrasted unpleasantly with Bijou's
frankness and sincerity. By this course each confirmed the other in the
impression of untrustworthiness and flirtatiousness both had received, and
they ought to have been perfectly satisfied with this result. But,
considering how perfectly happy she was in Mr. Heathcote's society, it was
odd that Bijou grew paler and thinner every day. And if Miss Price was so
perfectly delightful, why did she send Mr. Ramsay home always as gloomy
and morose as any young man very well could be? With blundering honesty,
Mr. Ramsay once taxed Bijou with a preference for Mr. Heathcote, not
knowing that when a jealous lover accuses a girl of being fond of some
other man she never fails to encourage the idea, unless it is really true,
when she denies it with the utmost vehemence. Bijou, with much feminine
circumlocution, insinuated that he was devotedly attached to Miss Price,
to which he truthfully replied that he did not care "one rap" about her.
Women are born incredulous in such affairs. When sure of themselves, they
doubt the lover; when sure of the lover, they invariably doubt themselves.
And so the misunderstanding grew, and continued in mutual mistake and
suspicion, and no two people were ever more thoroughly and foolishly
miserable. Mr. Ketchum, when enlightened by his wife, could see that his
guest was in a bad way; and one day it chanced that they were left alone
in the library, where Job was most unromantically engaged in looking up
plans for a model pig-stye, while he incidentally refreshed himself with
his favorite confection, molasses candy.

"Man alive!" said he, after directing a keen glance at Mr. Ramsay's face,
"what is the matter? Take some of the Dentist's Friend,