It was done, and dexterously done, in a moment; and if the selection of the new comer as her companion was almost too open and marked, perhaps that was her intention. At all events, when the two others had moved forward, Vincent said in an undertone— "This is very kind of you, Maisrie." And she replied, rather proudly— "I wished to show you that I could distinguish between old and new friends." Then he grew humble. "Maisrie," said he, "don’t you treasure up things against me! It was only a phrase. And just remember how I was situated. I came away down to Brighton merely to catch a glimpse of you; and about the first thing I saw was this young fellow, whom I had never heard of, driving you up and down among the fashionable crowd. You see, Maisrie, you hadn’t given me the sandal-wood necklace then; and what is of far more consequence, you hadn’t allowed your eyes to tell me what they told me this morning. So what was I to think? No harm of you, of course; but I was miserable;—and—and I thought you could easily forget; and all the afternoon I looked out for you; and all the evening I wandered about the streets, wondering whether you would be in one of the restaurants or the hotels. If I could only have spoken a word with you! But then, you know, I had been in a kind of way shut off from you; and—and there was this new acquaintance—" "I am very sorry, Vincent," she said also in a low voice. "It seems such a pity that one should vex one’s friends unintentionally; because in looking back, you like to think of their always being pleased with you; and then again there may be no chance of making up—and you are sorry when it is too late——" "Come, come, Maisrie," he said with greater freedom—for some people had intervened, and the other two were now a little way ahead, "I am not going to let you talk in that way. You always speak as if you and I were to be separated——" "Wouldn’t it be better, Vincent?" she said, simply. "Why?" "Why?" she repeated, in an absent kind of way. "Well, you know nothing about us, Vincent." "I have been told a good deal of late, then!" he said, in careless scorn. And the next instant he wished he had bitten his tongue out ere making that haphazard speech. The girl looked up at him with a curious quick scrutiny—as if she were afraid. "What have you been told, Vincent?" she demanded, in quite an altered tone.