I told her the whole of my conversation with my cousin the previous night, only suppressing the unflattering opinions he had thought fit to express of my present _confidante_. "And oh, Mrs. Lumley," I exclaimed as I concluded, "how could I sleep a wink last night, with all this to harass and reproach me? No wonder I'm pale and worried and perfectly miserable. I feel I'm behaving shamefully to John, and not at all rightly towards Captain Lovell. I know I ought to come to an understanding with my cousin, and that Frank ought to be more explicit with me. I couldn't have given a decided answer last night if my life had depended on it. I can't give up the one without knowing exactly whether he means honestly (if I thought he did, Mrs. Lumley, nothing should induce me to throw him over); and I don't like to make the other miserable, which I am sure I should do if I refused him point-blank; nor do I think I could do at all well without him, accustomed as I have been to depend upon him for everything from childhood. So I have wavered and prevaricated, and behaved disingenuously, almost falsely; and what must he think of me now?" "Think of you, my dear?" replied my worldly friend; "why, of course, he thinks of you more than ever. There is nothing like uncertainty, Kate, to keep them well up to the collar. You should always treat men like the beasts of the field. If you want to retain the upper hand of him, ride an adorer as you do Brilliant, my dear--a light hand, with just enough liberty to make him fancy he is going quite at his ease; and then, when he is getting a little careless and least expects it, give him such a jerk as makes his fine mouth smart again. He'll wince with the pain, and very likely rear straight on end; but he'll be all on his haunches well under control, and go on much the pleasanter during the rest of the day. Never mind how much they suffer; it's very good for them, and they will like you all the better for it."