But she was exceedingly youthful, and had not reckoned upon man's being a live machine, possessing impulses of his own. A violent seizure of her waist, and enough of kisses to make up the sum popularly known as a 'shower,' stopped her performance. She struggled, and muttered passionately to be released. "We are seen," she hazarded. At the repetition, Edward, accustomed to dread the warning, let her go and fled. Turning hurriedly about, Adela found that she had spoken truth unawares, and never wished so much that she had lied. Sir Twickenham Pryme came forward to her, with his usual stiff courtly step. "If you could have been a little--a little earlier," she murmured, with an unflurried face, laying a trembling hand in his; and thus shielded herself from a suspicion. "Could I know that I was wanted?" He pressed her hand. "I only know that I wish I had not left your side," said she--adding, "Though you must have thought me what, if I were a man, you Members of Parliament would call 'a bore,' for asking perpetual questions." "Nay, an apposite interrogation is the guarantee of a proper interest in the subject," said the baronet. Cornelia was very soon reverted to. "Her intellect is contemplative," said Adela, exhibiting marvellous mental composure. "She would lose her unerring judgement in active life. She cannot weigh things in her mind rapidly. She is safe if her course of action is clear." Sir Twickenham reserved his opinion of the truth of this. "I wonder whether she can forgive those who offend or insult her, easily?" A singular pleasure warmed Adela's veins. Her cheeks kindling, she replied, giving him her full face. "No; if they are worthy of punishment. But--" and now he watched a downcast profile--"one must have some forgiveness for fools." "Indeed, you speak like charity out of the windows of wisdom," said the baronet. "Do you not require in Parliament to be tolerant at times?" Adela pursued. Ho admitted it, and to her outcry of "Oh, that noble public life!" smiled deprecatingly--"My dear young lady, if you only knew the burden it brings!" "It brings its burden," said Adela, correcting, with a most proper instinct, another enthusiastic burst. "At the same time the honour is above the load. Am I talking too romantically? You are at least occupied." "Nine-tenths of us to no very good purpose," the baronet appended. She rejoined: "If it were but a fraction, the good done would survive." "And be more honourable to do, perhaps," he ejaculated. "The consolation should be great." "And is somehow small," said she; and they laughed softly.