"We were talking about London and the theatres," answered Angus. "Not a very sentimental topic;" and then he got up and walked away with his teacup, to the table near which Christabel was sitting, in the flickering firelight, and seated himself by her side, and began to talk to her about a box of books that had arrived from London that day--books that were familiar to him and new to her. Leonard looked after him with a scowl, safe in the shadow; while Dopsy, feeling that she had made a fool of herself, lapsed again into tears. "I am afraid he is behaving very badly to you," said Leonard. "Oh, no, no. But he has such strange ways. He blows hot and cold." "In plain words, he's a heartless flirt," answered Leonard, impatiently. "He has been fooled by a pack of women--pretends to be dying of consumption--gives himself no end of airs. He has flirted outrageously with you. Has he proposed?" "No----not exactly," faltered Dopsy. "Some one ought to bring him to the scratch. Your brother must tackle him." "Don't you think if--if--Jack were to say anything--were just to hint that I was being made very unhappy--that such marked attentions before all the world put me in a false position--don't you think it might do harm?" "Quite the contrary. It would do good. No man ought to trifle with a girl's feelings in that way. No man shall be allowed to do it in my house. If Jack won't speak to him, I will." "Oh, Mr. Vandeleur, what a noble heart you have--what a true friend you have always been to us." "You are my friend's sister--my wife's guest. I won't see you trifled with." "And you really think his attentions have been marked?" "Very much marked. He shall not be permitted to amuse himself at your expense. There he sits, talking sentiment to my wife--just as he has talked sentiment to you. Why doesn't he keep on the safe side, and confine his attentions to married women?" "You are not jealous of him?" asked Dopsy, with some alarm. "Jealous! I! It would take a very extraordinary kind of wife, and a very extraordinary kind of admirer of that wife, to make _me_ jealous." Dopsy felt her hopes in somewise revived by Mr. Tregonell's manner of looking at things. Up to this point she had mistrusted exceedingly that the flirting was all on her side: but now Leonard most distinctly averred that Angus Hamleigh had flirted, and in a manner obvious to every one. And if Mr. Hamleigh really admired her--if he were really blowing hot and cold--inclining one day to make her his wife, and on another day disposed to let her languish and fade in South Belgravia--might not a word or two from a judicious friend turn the scale, and make her happy for life. She went up to her room to dress in a flutter of hope and fear; so agitated, that she could scarcely manage the more delicate details of her toilet--the drapery of her skirt, the adjustment of the sunflower on her shoulder.