“He 'll be more than mortal if he don't give in, Loo. I gave a Lunacy Commissioner once a hoarseness that required a course of the waters at Vichy to cure; not to say that, by answering at cross purposes, one can disconcert the most zealous inquirer. But now, my dear, that I am in possession of my hearing, do tell me something about yourself and your plans.” “I have none, papa,--none,” said she, with a faint sigh. “Sir William Heathcote has, doubtless, many, and into some of them I may perhaps enter. He intends, for instance, that some time in March I shall be Lady Heathcote; that we shall go and live--I'm not exactly sure where, though I know we 're to be perfectly happy, and, not wishing to puzzle him, I don't ask how.” “I have no doubt you will be happy, Loo,” said he, confidently. “Security, safety, my dear, are great elements of happiness.” “I suppose they are,” said she, with another sigh; “and when one has been a privateer so long, it is pleasant to be enrolled in the regular navy, even though one should be laid up in ordinary.” “Nay, nay, Loo, no fear of that!” “On the contrary, papa, every hope of it! The best thing I could ask for would be oblivion.” “My dear Loo,” said he, impressively, “the world has not got one half so good a memory as you fancy. It is our own foolish timidity--what certain folk call conscience--that suggests the idea how people are talking of us, and, like the valet in the comedy, we begin confessing our sins before we 're accused of them!” “I know that is _your_ theory, papa,” said she, laughing, “and that one ought always to 'die innocent.'” “Of course, my dear. It is only the jail chaplain benefits by what is called 'a full disclosure of the terrible tragedy.'” “I hear my carriage creeping up quietly to the door,” said she, listening. “Be sure you let me see you early tomorrow. Good-night.” CHAPTER XXXVI. A GRAVE SCENE IN LIGHT COMPANY Moralists have often found a fruitful theme in the utter barrenness of all the appliances men employ for their pleasures. What failures follow them, what weariness, what satiety and heart-sickness! The feast of Belshazzar everywhere!