"It is quite ready, miss; I was just about to send it down." He brought forward the double loving-cup that Lionel had given to Nina; and as the young lady took it into her hands she glanced at the rim. Yes; the inscription was quite right: "_From Leo to Nina_"--that was the simple legend she had had engraved. "Here is the cup I spoke of, Estelle; is it not beautiful? And then I would not trouble Lionel to have the inscription made--I told him I would have it done myself and asked him what the words should be--behold it!" The cup was duly admired and handed back to be sent down to Sloane Street; then Estelle and she left the shop together. "Oh, yes, it is very beautiful," said the former, continuing to speak in her native tongue, "and a very distinguished present; but there is something still more piquant that he will be buying for you ere long--can you not guess, Nina?--no?--not a wedding-ring?" The audacity of the question somewhat disconcerted Nina; but she met it with no sham denial, no affected protest. "He has not spoken to me, Estelle," Nina said, gravely and simply, "And sometimes I ask myself if it is not better we should remain as we are--we are such good friends and companions. We are happy; we have plenty to occupy ourselves with; why undertake more serious cares? Perhaps that is all that Lionel thinks of it; and, if it is so, I am content. And then sometimes, Estelle, I ask myself if it would not be better for him to marry--when he has made his choice, that is to say; and I picture him and his young wife living very happily in a quite small establishment--perhaps two or three rooms only, in one of those large buildings in Victoria Street--and everything very pretty around them, with their music and their occupations and the visits of friends. Would not that be for him a life far more satisfactory than his present distractions--the gayeties and amusements--the invitations of strangers?" "Yes, yes, yes!" her companion cried, with instant assent. "Ah, Nina, I can see you the most charming young house-mistress--I can see you receive your guests when they come for afternoon music--you wear a tea-gown of brocade the color of wall-flower, with cream-colored lace--you speak French, English, Italian as it is necessary for this one and that--your musical reunions are known everywhere. Will madame permit the poor Estelle to be present?--Estelle, who will not dare to sing before those celebrated ones, but who will applaud, applaud--in herself a prodigious _claque_! And now, behold! Miss Burgoyne arrives--Miss Burgoyne in grand state--and nevertheless you are her dear Nina, her charming friend, although in her heart she hates you for having carried off the handsome Lionel--"