," said Jack, after a long silence.

"Who?" said I, with some bitterness, which came forth in spite of my
new-found conviction of Jack's utter babyhood.--"Who, Miss Phillips?"

"Oh, no," said Jack--"Marion."

"Forgive you!" I ejaculated.

"Of course not. It's bosh to use the word in such a connection. She'll
hate and scorn me till her dying day."

"No, Jack," said I, somewhat solemnly, "I think from what little I know
of her, that if she gets over this, she'll feel neither hate nor
scorn."

"Yes, she will," said Jack, pettishly.

"No," said I.

"You don't know her, my boy. She's not the one to forget this."

"No, she'll never forget it--but her feelings about you will be
different from hate and scorn. She will simply find that she has been
under a glamour about you, and will think of you with nothing but
perfect indifference--and a feeling of wonder at her own infatuation."

Jack looked vexed.

"To a woman who don't know you, Jack, my boy--you become idealized, and
heroic; but to one who does, you are nothing of the kind. So very
impressible a fellow as you are, cannot inspire a very deep passion.
When a woman finds the fellow she admires falling in love right and
left, she soon gets over her fancy. If it were some one other woman
that had robbed her of your affection, she would be jealous; but when
she knows that all others are equally charming, she will become utterly
indifferent."

"See here, old boy, don't get to be so infernally oracular. What the
mischief does a fellow like you know about that sort of thing? I
consider your remarks as a personal insult, and, if I didn't feel so
confoundedly cut up, I'd resent it. But as it is, I only feel bored,
and, on the whole, I should wish it to be with Marion as you say it's
going to be. If I could think it would be so, I'd be a deuced sight
easier in my mind about her. If it weren't for my own abominable
conduct, I'd feel glad that this sort of thing had been stopped--only I
don't like to think of Marion being disappointed, you know--or hurt
--and that sort of thing, you know. The fact is, I have no business to
get married just now--no--not even to the angel Gabriel--and this would
have been so precious hard on poor little Louie."

"Louie--why," said I, "you speak confidently about her."

"Oh, never fear about her," said Jack. "She's able, to take care of
herself. She does nothing but laugh at me--no end."

"Nothing new, then, in that quarter?" I asked, f