"Woman's vows are writ in water; Woman's faith is traced in sand." Who should be in the back of the box but Frank Lovell himself! Mischievous Mrs. Lumley, was this your doing? Before I went away I had promised to meet him next morning in the park, and he was to _explain all_. CHAPTER XVII. I hope I have as much command of countenance as falls to the lot of any lady who don't paint; but when I returned from my walk in the Park the following morning I must have looked flushed or excited, or in some way different from usual. I met John at the corner of Lowndes Street, and he stopped short, and looked me piercingly in the face. "Where have you been, Kate?" said he, without waiting to bid me "good-morning" or anything. "A little stroll in the Park, John," was my reply. "By yourself?" he asked, and his face looked pale and grave. I cannot tell a story, so I hesitated and stammered,-- "No, not exactly--at least I met an acquaintance near the Serpentine." "Have you any objection to telling me who it was?" said John, and his voice sounded very strange. "Good gracious! what's the matter?" I asked, in my turn. "Has anything happened? Are you ill, John? you look quite upset." "I insist upon knowing," answered he, without taking the slightest notice of my tender inquiries after his health. "Did you or did you not meet Captain Lovel this morning in Hyde Park?" "Yes, I certainly _did_ meet him," I replied. "Accidentally?" exclaimed my cousin. "Why--no--not entirely," was my answer; "but the fact is----" "Enough!" burst out John, breaking in upon my explanations with a rudeness I had never before seen him exhibit. "Kate, I have been deceived in you. I thought at least you were candid and straightforward: I find you faithless, ungrateful, ungenerous! But I will not reproach you," he added, checking himself by a strong effort: "it is only natural, I conclude, for a woman to be false. I thought you were different from the rest, and I was a fool for my pains. Kate, let us understand each other at once. I offered you last night all that man could give. I had a right to expect an answer then and there. I _thought_ I had a favourable one, and I have spent twelve hours of happiness. I now see that I have deceived myself. Perhaps I value my own worth too highly; I own I feel sore and aggrieved, but _you_ shall not be the sufferer. Kate, I am only 'Cousin John' once more. Give me a few days to get over a natural disappointment, and you and I will be friends and playfellows as we used to be. Shake hands, Kate: I spoke harshly, in a moment of anger; it is over now. God bless you, dear!"