“Then, once on a time there was a Scotch farmer who had a bonny cow; and another farmer coveted her honestly. One Sunday they went home together from kirk and there was the cow grazing. Farmer Two stopped, eyed her, and said to Farmer One, 'Gien it were Monday, as it is the Sabba' day, what would ye tak' for your coow?' The other said the price would be nine pounds, _if it were Monday._ And so they kept the Sabbath; and the cow changed hands, though, to the naked eye, she grazed on _in situ._ Our negotiation is just as complete. So what does it matter whether the actual exchange of bills and cash takes place to-day or to-morrow?” “Do you really mean to say it does not matter to you?” asked Severne. “Not one straw.” “Then, as it does not matter to you, and does to me, give me my foolish way, like a dear good fellow.” “Now, that is smart,” said Vizard--“very smart;” then, with a look of parental admiration, “he gets his own way in everything. He _will_ have your money--he _won't_ have your money. I wonder whether he _will_ consent to walk those girls out, and disburden me of their too profitable discourse.” “That I will, with pleasure.” “Well, they are at luncheon--with their bonnets on.” “I will join them in five minutes.” After luncheon, Miss Vizard, Miss Dover, and Mr. Severne started for a stroll. Miss Maitland suggested that Vizard should accompany them. “Couldn't think of deserting you,” said he dryly. The young ladies giggled, because these two rarely opened their mouths to agree, one being a professed woman-hater, and the other a man-hater, in words. Says Misander, in a sourish way, “Since you value my conversation so, perhaps you will be good enough not to smoke for the next ten minutes.” Misogyn consented, but sighed. That sigh went unpitied, and the lady wasted no time. “Do you see what is going on between your sister and that young man?” “Yes; a little flirtation.” “A great deal more than that. I caught them, in this very room, making love.” “You alarm me,” said Vizard, with marked tranquillity. “I saw him--kiss--her--hand.” “You relieve me,” said Vizard, as calmly as he had been alarmed. “There's no harm in that. I've kissed the queen's hand, and the nation did not rise upon me. However, I object to it. The superior sex should not play the spaniel. I will tell him to drop that. But, permit me to say, all this is in your department, not mine. “But what can I do against three of them, unless you support me? There you have let them go out together.” “Together with Fanny Dover, you mean?” “Yes; and if Fanny had any designs on him, Zoe would be safe--” “And poor Ned torn in two.” “But Fanny, I am grieved to say, seems inclined to assist this young man with Zoe; that is, because it does not matter to her. She has other views--serious ones.” “Serious! What? A nunnery? Then I pity my lady abbess.” “Her views are plain enough to anybody but you.” “Are they? Then make me as wise as my neighbors.”