“Well, then,” said Letitia, “at least, he might go down to Newport for a day or two; and his presence there might set some things right: it might at least check reports. You might just suggest to him that unfriendly things were being said.” “Well, I’ll see what I can do,” said Grace. So, by a little feminine tact in suggestion, Grace despatched her brother to spend a day or two in Newport. * * * * * His coming and presence interrupted the lounging hours in Lillie’s room; the introduction to “my husband” shortened the interviews. John was courteous and affable; but he neither smoked nor drank, and there was a mutual repulsion between him and many of Lillie’s _habitués_. “I say, Dan,” said Bill Sanders to Danforth, as they were smoking on one end of the veranda, “you are driven out of your lodgings since Seymour came.” “No more than the rest of you,” said Danforth. “I don’t know about that, Dan. I think _you_ might have been taken for master of those premises. Look here now, Dan, why didn’t you _take_ little Lill yourself? Everybody thought you were going to last year.” “Didn’t want her; knew too much,” said Danforth. “Didn’t want to keep her; she’s too cursedly extravagant. It’s jolly to have this sort of concern on hand; but I’d rather Seymour’d pay her bills than I.” “Who thought you were so practical, Dan?” “Practical! that I am; I’m an old bird. Take my advice, boys, now: keep shy of the girls, and flirt with the married ones,—then you don’t get roped in.” “I say, boys,” said Tom Nichols, “isn’t she a case, now? What a head she has! I bet she can smoke equal to any of us.” “Yes; I keep her in cigarettes,” said Danforth; “she’s got a box of them somewhere under her ruffles now.” “What if Seymour should find them?” said Tom. “Seymour? pooh! he’s a muff and a prig. I bet you he won’t find her out; she’s the jolliest little humbugger there is going. She’d cheat a fellow out of the sight of his eyes. It’s perfectly wonderful.” “How came Seymour to marry her?” “He? Why, he’s a pious youth, green as grass itself; and I suppose she talked religion to him. Did you ever hear her talk religion?” A roar of laughter followed this, out of which Danforth went on. “By George, boys, she gave me a prayer-book once! I’ve got it yet.” “Well, if that isn’t the best thing I ever heard!” said Nichols. “It was at the time she was laying siege to me, you see. She undertook the part of guardian angel, and used to talk lots of sentiment. The girls get lots of that out of George Sand’s novels about the _holiness_ of doing just as you’ve a mind to, and all that,” said Danforth. “By George, Dan, you oughtn’t to laugh. She may have more good in her than you think.” “Oh, humbug! don’t I know her?” “Well, at any rate she’s a wonderful creature to hold her looks. By George! how she _does_ hold out! You’d say, now, she wasn’t more than twenty.”