which quivered a little with suppressed agitation, on Oswald’s shoulder. ‘I don’t know what to say to you, old fellow,’ he said, with an attempt at an easy tone. ‘I needn’t wish you happiness, for you’ve got it----’ In spite of himself Oswald laughed. He had a schoolboy’s delight in mystification, and somehow a sense of Edward’s disappointment came in, and gave him a still greater perception of the joke. Not that he wished to hurt Edward, but to most men who know nothing of love there is so much of the ridiculous involved, even in a disappointment, that the one who is heart-whole may be deliberately cruel without any evil intention. ‘Oh, yes, I am happy enough,’ he said, looking round at his brother, who, for his part, could not meet his eyes. ‘I hope you won’t mind what I am going to say to you,’ said Edward. ‘I am not so light-hearted a fellow as you are, and that makes me, perhaps, notice others. Oswald, look here--_she_ is not so light-hearted as you are, either. She wants taking care of. She is very sensitive, and feels many things that perhaps you would not feel. Don’t be vexed. I thought I would just say this once for all--and there is no good thing I don’t wish you,’ cried Edward, concluding abruptly, to cover the little break in his voice. ‘You needn’t look so glum about it, Ned,’ said his brother. ‘I don’t mean to be turned off to-morrow. We shall have time to mingle our tears on various occasions before then. Mamma and you have a way of jumping at conclusions. As for _her_----’ ‘I don’t like slang on such a subject,’ said Edward, hotly. ‘Never mind; there are some things we should never agree upon if we talked till doomsday. Good-night.’ ‘Good-night, old man, and I wish you a better temper--unless you’ll come and have another cigar first,’ said Oswald, with cheerful assurance. ‘My mind is too full for sleep.’ ‘Your mind is full of----’ ‘Her, of course,’ said Oswald, with a laugh; and he went downstairs whistling the air of Fortunio’s song-- Je sais mourir pour ma mie, Sans la nommer.