“It seems so cowardly to send you,” said Fanny, half under her breath. “Yet I can not trust my own resolution if I met Lennox!--and then if it should be discovered--” Her pause said more than many words. At that moment the Meredith diamonds, and all that the Meredith diamonds represented, shone brightly before her eyes. To risk the loss of them by keeping this midnight tryst, was more than she could dare. And the girl before her looked up with brave, generous glance from under the dark hood. “Don’t think of it, Fanny,” she said. “If _you_ were discovered, what would everybody say? while if _I_ am, it does not matter. Nobody knows or cares about me! Come, now, and let me out. You’ll wait downstairs to let me in, will you not?” “Yes, indeed, I shall wait and count every instant. For Heaven’s sake come back as quickly as you can! And be certain, very certain, that it is Lennox Kyrle to whom you speak. It would be awful if you gave the message to any one but him!” III. Being a little excited, and not at all sleepy, it chanced that Mr. Meredith, after parting with Miss Berrien, betook himself to the sea wall, where he proceeded to pace to and fro, smoking a cigar and wrapped in very agreeable thought. Despite her coquetry, Fanny had yielded to his suit more than ever before, and he felt no doubt that in the end she would yield altogether. He liked to be played with in this manner. It was not enough to discourage--Fanny was too wise for that--but just enough to give a zest of uncertainty, to sustain and keep alive the interest which in similar affairs had more than once failed him. In short, he was completely conscious of being in love, and very much pleased with the same, finding in it none of the “pang, the agony, the doubt,” which are poetically supposed to accompany the tender passion, but only an agreeable stimulation. He was even conscious of feeling distinctly sentimental, and disposed to cast lingering glances at Mrs. Shreve’s house whenever he came to the spot where it entered into his range of vision.