"Mr. Moore?" she repeated, with her eyes (which were pretty and coquettish enough, though they were not on the same plane) grown wide and wondering. "A friend of mine? And you come to me--as if I had anything to do with it? Oh, my goodness!" she suddenly exclaimed, and a curious smile of intelligence began to dawn upon her face. "Has that young donkey carried the matter so far as that?" But she was not displeased; nay, she was rather inclined to laugh. "Well, that would make a stir, wouldn't it? And how did you find it out?--who told _you_? A duel? I thought he was talking rather mysteriously yesterday morning--Conrad the Corsair kind of thing--glooms and daggers--so it was a duel he was thinking of? But they are not really going to fight, Miss Ross," continued Miss Burgoyne, who had grown quite friendly. "You know people can't give up an engagement at a theatre to go and fight a duel: it's only French gentlemen who have no occupation who do that sort of thing. A duel?--a real, actual duel--do you seriously mean it?" The prospect seemed to afford her great satisfaction, if not even a cause for merriment. "Miss Burgoyne, you will not permit it!" Nina exclaimed. "I?" said the other. "What have I to do with it? If two men want to fight, why shouldn't they?" said she, with apparent carelessness. "Ah, but you know well what you have to do with it," Nina said, with some touch of scorn. "Yes, you pretend; but you know it well. The young man he goes from you yesterday to provoke the duel--you have been talking to him--and yet you pretend. You say, why should they not fight? Then it is nothing to you that one friend or the other friend may be killed?--that is nothing to you?--and you know you can prevent it if you choose. You do not wish to interfere--it will be amusing to read in the papers! Oh, very amusing! And if the one is killed?" "But you know, Miss Ross, they don't go such lengths nowadays," said Miss Burgoyne, with great good-humor. "No, no; it's only honor and glory they go out for; it's only the name of the thing; they don't want to kill each other. Besides, if two men mean to fight, how can a woman interfere? What is she supposed to know of the cause of quarrel? These things are not supposed to be known." "Then," said Nina, whose lips had grown still more indignant and scornful, "this is what I say: if anything happens, it is your conscience that will speak to you in after time. You wish them to fight, yes, for your vanity to be pleased!--you wish it said that they fight about you! And that is a trionf for you--something in the papers--and you do not care what harm is done if you are talked about! That is your friendship!--what do you care?--any one may be sacrificed to your vanity--"