"I do dare," he replied, with blind fury; "and I tell you further, Lady Louisa Loftus, that this fine and moral young gentleman, Captain Norcliff, has an affair with a girl well known to all our mess; as the French, happily would term her, _une femme entretenue_, of a brother officer—one who has a doocid flaw in her fair fame, and most decided kick in her gallop," he added, coarsely and maliciously, determined at all hazards to ruin me with Louisa, and even with my uncle and cousin, though he could gain nothing thereby. "And you, his friend, tell me of this!" exclaimed Louisa, with withering scorn in her manner, as she played nervously with the rose diamond ring I had given her. "Will you and Miss Calderwood accompany me this evening to the cottage near the Reculvers, and I shall have the pleasure of showing you how our modern Captain Bailey solaces himself in ’country quarters.’" At the mention of this cottage Lady Louisa started, and changed colour visibly, and it was then Berkeley’s turn to smile, for certain odd rumours concerning it and its beautiful occupant had reached her through the servants at the park, and more particularly her own attendant; but recollecting her position, she said, loftily and decidedly, while cresting up her haughty head— "’Tis false, sir! I am indisposed to act the spy, and he will not be there." "Oh, yes, he will be there, be true as a turtle-dove—exact as—haw—the clock at the Horse Guards. We shall find him mingling his tears with those of the Traviata; a philanthropic Howard in a lancer uniform—a very Joseph—haw—haw—’a man of snow?’" "Sir!" exclaimed Lady Loftus, stamping her little foot. "He’s been devilish hard up of late—got fifty pounds this morning from the paymaster—so his man told mine; the girl’s a dancer, and every one knows they are doocid expensive cattle to keep and shoe." "Sir, you forget yourself!" exclaimed Lady Louisa, while her eyes flashed with an expression of rage, which even her long lashes failed to soften. "Papa and mamma are to dine at the Priory—so this evening I am free, and you shall drive us, that is, Miss Calderwood and me—to that odious cottage, and with my own eyes I shall prove who is false, you or he!" "Agreed, I am quite at your disposal," said he, bowing low. And so ended this singular interview. So ended Berkeley’s hopes of all but gratified malice, and they separated, each with anger against the other sparkling in their eyes, and burning in their hearts. * * * * * Louisa at once sought Cora, and related all that had passed—the abrupt proposal and its singular sequel—little knowing that the latter portion of her narrative, like a double-edged sword, cut two ways at once, and how her words stabbed poor Cora to the heart; for the good girl would rather have heard that I was steady and faithful in my regard for her brilliant rival than that I was the creature Berkeley had striven to make me appear.