Mary felt Reginald, who was standing close to her, wince. “Ah, my friend,” she thought, “you are not altogether so cold or indifferent as you seem!” Alice, perfectly unconscious of the close proximity of her cousin’s arm, went on: “He loves me--a little, very much, passionately; not at all, a little, very much. She loves you--_very much_. I was sure of it! The red-haired girl at Southsea. It’s all very well to know the state of _her_ affections, but you must not think of it. I would never give my consent--never, much less a wedding present.” “I would a great deal rather have a kiss now, my pretty little cousin.” “What on earth put kisses into your head, you ridiculous boy?” “_You!_” said he, drawing her towards him and endeavouring to imprint a salute on her fair cheek. But he reckoned without his hostess. Like lightning she sprang to her feet and confronted him with flaming cheeks and dilated eyes. “How dare you forget yourself? How--how dare you insult me--me, a married woman? If you _had_ kissed me I should have considered myself degraded indeed, and never spoken to you again as long as I lived.” “Indeed!” sarcastically; “what a loss!” “What do you mean by such conduct, sir?” stamping her foot. Her breast was heaving, her hands trembling. She looked, and she was, in a towering passion. “What a little cat you are! What a little fury! No _wonder_ Rex had a rough time of it. What harm if I did kiss you, my own sweet-tempered first cousin?” said Geoffrey. “I often kiss Dolly and Mary Saville--and why not you?” “It would have been an outrage. No one ever has, ever shall kiss me, except--except----” she stammered. “Except--how many? Don’t be bashful.” “Except Reginald, of course,” she replied with passionate vehemence. “What a good joke! You don’t really say so?” he exclaimed with a sneering laugh. “By all accounts _he_ has never had many of your kisses. He wouldn’t be _bothered_ with them,” proceeded this extremely aggravating youth. “He would rather be leading a squadron of cavalry than kissing the prettiest girl in England; and he is not such a dog in the manger as to refuse me a few of what he never takes himself.” “Let me pass, sir!” cried Alice, sweeping him aside and dashing up the steps, where she found herself face to face with her husband and Mary. “Eavesdroppers!” she exclaimed with a start. “Quite unintentionally so,” replied Mary. “And at any rate you have not committed yourself in any way.” “More than you can say for Geoffrey!” cried Alice, giving him a glance of ineffable contempt as he leisurely ascended the steps, not the least disconcerted by the situation.