"Now, don't be silly, Barbara dear," exclaimed Miss Townshend, who was getting rather annoyed because her friend had not gone off into hysterics. "You know well enough what I mean; and it is a shame, a horrible shame! Who would have thought that that learned clever man could have been such an incorrigible flirt? There now," putting up her hands, "you know perfectly well who I mean. And he did carry on with you in the most shameful manner--and going to be married all the time! Not that I'm sure you're not rightly served, Barbara. It's just the sort of thing you've been doing all your life, you know; but, still, one doesn't expect it in a man, does one, dear? I wonder--" "_I_ wonder when you'll have common sense, Alice. It's time, if what you told me this morning be true." "O Barbara darling! O Barbara! don't remind me of it. Oh, how miserable you've made me! And you--you don't care one pin, when you know I'm so wretched." And putting her handkerchief to her eyes, little Miss Townshend hurried out of the room. And what of the girl who "didn't care one pin"? who had just been rallied upon having been made a fool of by a man--a man, moreover, for whom every hour of her life proved to her that she cared? Pride, love, vexation, doubt,--all these had influence on that throbbing heart; and she flung herself on her bed in a flood of tears. CHAPTER VII. TOUCHING A PROPOSAL. When Captain Lyster rose on the following morning, he had made up his mind to the commission of a very serious deed. A long course of reflection as he lay awake in the watches of the night, and the discovery, real or imaginary, of a further diminution of hair on the crown of his head, had determined him upon asking Miss Townshend to become his wife without any further delay. There was something in her fresh, cheery, pleasant manner that specially appealed to this _blasé_ cynic; she was so unlike the women he had been accustomed to mix with in society, who were generally weak imitations of Barbara Lexden, or opinionless misses, who held "yea" and "nay" to be the sole ingredients necessary in their conversation; in fact, this chattering girl, who said every thing uppermost in her mind, who had capital spirits perennially flowing, and who was natural without being either arrogant or "miss-ish," had completely enslaved him. He might have pottered on in silent admiration for some time longer, but that he had been greatly annoyed by Beresford's manner to Miss Townshend on the preceding evening; there was something in the Commissioner's easy familiarity, both during dinner and afterwards, which signally raised Lyster's wrath. He had towards Beresford that singular feeling, that compound of distrust, detestation, contempt, and fear, which we experience instinctively for any rival; and his love for this girl was far too serious a matter to permit any tampering with his plans. A good fellow, Fred Lyster; a kind-hearted, straightforward, honourable