The next minute he had gone, and Ella felt a strange shiver pass through her; for if there had been any mistake about the pressure of the hand, there could have been none concerning the look which followed. "Bai Jove!" ejaculated Max, as he sought a cab on his departure, "how confoundedly slow! But it's nearly ripe at last!" Then to make up for the slowness, Max Bray had himself driven to a highly genteel tavern in Saint James's, where the society was decidedly fast; so that, on returning about three to his apartments, and laying his head upon his pillow, the slow and the fast society must have balanced one another; for he snored very pleasantly, no doubt feeling a better man, bai Jove! Volume 3, Chapter XIII. RATHER CLOSE. "Bai Jove, Mrs Marter, it does a man good to see you," said Max Bray, sauntering one afternoon into the Marter drawing-room, carefully dressed, as a matter of course, and with a choice Covent-garden exotic in his button-hole. "I declare it makes one quite disgusted with the flowers one buys, it does, bai Jove!" and then showing his white teeth, he raised her hand, touched the extreme tips of her nails with his lips, and then resigned the hand, which fell gracefully upon the side of the couch. "Bai Jove, Marter, I envy you--I do, bai Jove! You're one of the lucky ones of this earth, only you don't know it: feast of reason, flow of soul, and all that sort of thing's blooming, if I may say so, upon your own premises." "I'm sure," simpered Mrs Marter, "there ought to be a new official made at the palace--Court flatterer--and Mr Bray given the post." "Wouldn't be amiss, if there was a good salary," said Mr Marter, looking up from his newspaper. "Bai Jove, now, that's too bad--'tis indeed, bai Jove! There are some of you people get so hardened by contact with the world, that, bai Jove! you've no more faith in a fler's sincerity than if there wasn't such a thing to be found anywhere." "O! but," simpered Mrs Marter, "do you think we can't tell when you are sincere?" "Bai Jove, no!" said Max earnestly, and with a wonderful deal of truth. "But look here: I've got tickets for Her Majesty's to-night--three, you know--for _La Figlia_. You'll go, of course, Marter?" "Go to an opera!" said Mr Marter, with a shake of the head. "I never go to operas--I only go to sleep." "O, bai Jove! that's too bad!" cried Max. "You've never been with us anywhere yet; and I do think you ought to go for once in a way." "No, I sha'n't go!" said Mr Marter; "and besides, I have promised to dine out. Take Miss Bedford." "Bother Miss Bedford! Bai Jove, one can't stir without your governess. I say, Marter, do go!" "Can't, I tell you; and, besides, I shouldn't go, if I had no engagement," said Mr Marter testily. "You three can go if you like."