To her eager questions, which the few words of the general had excited, the count afforded no other reply than that his poor friend knew not what he said, having been a long time in a state of mental derangement. This explanation caused a momentary mortification in the imaginative Euphemia; but her busy mind was nimble in its erection of airy castles, and she rallied in a moment with the idea that "he might be more than a lord." At any rate, let him be what he may, he charmed her; and he had much ado to parry the increasing boldness of her speeches, without letting her see they were understood. "You are very diffident, Mr. Constantine," cried she, looking down. "If I consider you worthy of my friendship, why should _you_ make disqualifying assertions?" "Every man, madam," returned Thaddeus, bowing as he rose from his chair, "must be diffident of deserving the honor of your notice." "There is no man living," replied she, "to whom I would offer my friendship but yourself." Thaddeus bit his lip; he knew not what to answer. Bowing a second time, he stretched out his hand and drew his hat towards him. Euphemia's eyes followed the movement. "You are in a prodigious haste, Mr. Constantine!" "I know I intrude, madam; and I have promised to be with my sick friend at an early hour." "Well, you may go, since you are obliged," returned the pretty Euphemia, rising, and smiling sweetly as she laid one hand on his arm and put the other into her tucker. She drew out a little white leather _souvenir_, marked on the back in gold letters with the words, "_Toujours cher_;" and slipping it into his hand, "There, receive that, _monsignor_, or whatever else you may be called, and retain it as the first pledge of Euphemia Dundas's friendship." Thaddeus colored as he took it; and again having recourse to the convenient reply of a bow, left the room in embarrassed vexation. There was an indelicacy in this absolutely wooing conduct of Miss Euphemia which, notwithstanding her beauty and the softness that was its vehicle, filled him with the deepest disgust. He could not trace real affection in her words or manner; and that any woman, instigated by a mere whim, should lay aside the maidenly reserves of her sex, and actually court his regard, surprised whilst it impelled him to loathe her. They who adopt Euphemia's sentiments,--and, alas! there are some,-- can be little aware of the conclusion which society infer from such intemperate behavior. The mistaken creature who, either at the impulsion of her own disposition or by the influence of example, is induced to despise the guard of modesty, literally "forsakes the guide of her youth" and leaves herself open to every attack which man can devise against her. By levelling the barrier raised by nature, she herself exposes the stronghold of virtue, and may find, too late for recovery, that what modesty has abandoned is not long spared by honor.