Rose quietly turned her face, too sure of her cold appreciation of him to retort. But yesterday night a word from him might have made her his; and here she sat advocating the nobility of his nature with the zeal of a barrister in full swing of practice. Remember, however, that a kiss separates them: and how many millions of leagues that counts for in love, in a pure girl's thought, I leave you to guess. Now, in what way was Evan to be thanked? how was he to be treated? Sir Franks proposed to go down to him in person, accompanied by Harry. Lady Jocelyn acquiesced. But Rose said to her mother: 'Will not you wound his sensitiveness by going to him there?' 'Possibly,' said her ladyship. 'Shall we write and ask him to come to us?' 'No, Mama. Could we ask him to make a journey to receive our thanks?' 'Not till we have solid ones to offer, perhaps.' 'He will not let us help him, Mama, unless we have all given him our hands.' 'Probably not. There's always a fund of nonsense in those who are capable of great things, I observe. It shall be a family expedition, if you like.' 'What!' exclaimed Mrs. Shorne. 'Do you mean that you intend to allow Rose to make one of the party? Franks! is that your idea?' Sir Franks looked at his wife. 'What harm?' Lady Jocelyn asked; for Rose's absence of conscious guile in appealing to her reason had subjugated that great faculty. 'Simply a sense of propriety, Emily,' said Mrs. Shorne, with a glance at Ferdinand. 'You have no objection, I suppose!' Lady Jocelyn addressed him. 'Ferdinand will join us,' said Rose. 'Thank you, Rose, I'd rather not,' he replied. 'I thought we had done with the fellow for good last night.' 'Last night?' quoth Lady Jocelyn. No one spoke. The interrogation was renewed. Was it Rose's swift instinct which directed her the shortest way to gain her point? or that she was glad to announce that her degrading engagement was at an end? She said: 'Ferdinand and Mr. Harrington came to an understanding last night, in my presence.' That, strange as it struck on their ears, appeared to be quite sufficient to all, albeit the necessity for it was not so very clear. The carriage was ordered forthwith; Lady Jocelyn went to dress; Rose drew Ferdinand away into the garden. Then, with all her powers, she entreated him to join her. 'Thank you, Rose,' he said; 'I have no taste for the genus.' 'For my sake, I beg it, Ferdinand.' 'It's really too much to ask of me, Rose.' 'If you care for me, you will.' ''Pon my honour, quite impossible!' 'You refuse, Ferdinand?' 'My London tailor 'd find me out, and never forgive me.' This pleasantry stopped her soft looks. Why she wished him to be with her, she could not have said. For a thousand reasons: which implies no distinct one something prophetically pressing in her blood. CHAPTER XLVI A LOVERS' PARTING