"That is exactly why I wish that you would marry her," said Mrs. Romaine, almost below her breath. "Think of the triumph for me!" Her eyes glowed, and she breathed more quickly as she spoke. "That woman scorned me--gloated over my sorrow and my love," she said; "she dared to reproach me for what she called my want of modesty--my want of womanly feeling, and--oh, I cannot tell you what she said! But this I know, that if I could reach her through her daughter or her husband, and stab her to the heart as she once stabbed me, the dearest wish of my life would be fulfilled!" "Women are always vindictive," said Oliver, philosophically. "The fact is, you want to revenge yourself on Lady Alice through me, and yet you don't consider _me_ in the very least. If I married this Lesley Brooke, Lady Alice and all the Courtleroys would no doubt get into an awful rage with her and you and me and everybody; and what would be the upshot? Why, they would cut her off with a shilling and we should be next door to penniless. Then Brooke--well, he may be fairly prosperous, but he has only what he makes, you know; and I doubt if he could settle very much upon his daughter, even if he wanted to. And he does not like me. I doubt whether even _you_, my dear Rosy, could dispose him to look favorably on my advances." Mrs. Romaine was perhaps convinced, but she did not like to own herself mistaken. She was silent for a minute or two, and then said with a sigh and a smile-- "You may be right. But it would have been splendid if you could have married Lesley Brooke. We should have been thorns in Lady Alice's side ever afterwards." "You are one already, aren't you?" asked Oliver. He got up from the table and approached the mantelpiece as if to show that the discussion was ended. "No, my dear Rosalind," he said, "I'm booked. I am going to woo and wed Miss Ethel Kenyon and her twenty thousand pounds. She will be sick of her fad for the stage in twelve months. And then we shall live very comfortably. But I'll tell you what I will do to please you. I'll _flirt_ with this Lesley girl, nineteen to the dozen. I'll make love to her: I'll win her young affections, and do my best to break her heart, if you like. How would that suit you?" He spoke with a smile, but Rosalind knew that there was a ring of serious earnest in his voice. "It sounds a very cold-blooded sort of thing to do," she said. "Please yourself. I won't do it, then." "Oh, Oliver----" "Yes, I know you would like to see Lady Alice's daughter pining away for love of me," said Oliver, with a little laugh. "It is not a bad idea. The difficulty will be to manage both girls--seriously, Rosalind, Ethel Kenyon is the girl I mean to marry." "You are clever enough for anything if you like." "Thank you. Well, I'll see how far I can go."