"But, my own Selina," said he, "what was I to do? Be reasonable. I only wrote and told his lordship the boy was carrying on a clandestine love-affair.—No, of course I did n’t sign the letter.—None of my business?—Now, Selina, if I had n’t wrote he ’d have come again, and all would have been disclosed. We should have been obleeged to leave the Walk.—Drat the Walk?—Oh! fie! That is not how my ring-dove customarily coos.—What? soft words butter no parsnips?—Selina, Selina—! Does my Selina think she is in her kitchen?—Yes; I know I ’ve made Miss Marjory very unhappy; but we must make other people unhappy, if we ’re to be happy ourselves. I ’m sorry for her, very sorry. She’s a sweet creature." There was a sound of a broken tea-cup. "There you go again!—You scold me for making her unhappy, and you scold me for being sorry. There ’s no pleasing you anyhow!" In his perplexity he had brushed his hair over the top of his head, and now he looked like an angry cockatoo. Marjolaine came slowly and dejectedly out of her house. She heard Mr. Brooke-Hoskyn’s voice and glanced up at him, but even his wild and wonderful appearance failed to draw a smile from her. Mr. Brooke-Hoskyn could not retire, much as he would have liked to. He waved a conciliatory hair-brush at her, and cried with assumed cheerfulness, "Ah, Miss Marjory—! How do you do?" then in response to some remark from his wife, he turned and whispered peevishly, "I must speak to her; it’s only polite. Don’t snivel." He addressed Marjolaine again, deprecatorily, "You are looking a little pale." Marjolaine drew herself up. It was intolerable that anybody should see she was in trouble. "I never felt better in my life," she said defiantly. "But more like the lily than the rose?" exclaimed Mr. Brooke-Hoskyn with a fine touch of lyricism; and then to Selina, "No; I am not talking nonsense! It was a quotation." "How is Mrs. Brooke-Hoskyn this morning?" asked Marjolaine. "In the highest spirits!" cried Mr. Brooke-Hoskyn. "My dear Selina," he explained, turning towards the room, "Miss Marjory is kind enough to ask after your health, and I am telling her you are in the highest spirits. Do—not—snivel—she ’ll hear you!" To Marjolaine, with a ghastly smile, "Her gaiety is infectious; positively infectious!" Some hard object, thrown with unerring aim, caught him in the small of the back. "Oh, Lord!" he cried. "Excuse me, Miss Marjory; Selina has just remembered a joke she wishes to tell me. Thus the hours pass in innocent mirth and badinage. Excuse me!" He turned away. "You really _are_—!" he cried, almost viciously; and slammed the window, and disappeared.