“Thanks! Now we shall get on happily. I don't ask or expect the old life--that is impossible. I knew that when lovers came, the friend would fall into the background; and I am content to be second, where I have so long been first. Do not think you neglect me; be happy with your lover, dear, and when you have no pleasanter amusement, come and see old Maurice.” She turned her head away, that he might not see the angry color in her cheeks, the trouble in her eyes, and when she spoke, it was to say petulantly, “I wish Jasper and Mamma would leave me in peace. I hate lovers and want none. If Frank teases, I'll go into a convent and so be rid of him.” Maurice laughed, and turned her face toward himself, saying, in his persuasive voice, “Give him a trial first, to please your mother. It can do no harm and may amuse you. Frank is already lost, and, as you are heart-whole, why not see what you can do for him? I shall have a new study, then, and not miss you so much.” “You are very kind; I'll do my best. I wish Mrs. Snowdon would come, if she is coming; I've an engagement at two, and Frank will look tragical if I'm not ready. He is teaching me billiards, and I really like the game, though I never thought I should.” “That looks well. I hope you'll learn a double lesson, and Annon find a docile pupil in both.” “You are very pale this morning; are you in pain, Maurice?” suddenly asked Octavia, dropping the tone of assumed ease and gaiety under which she had tried to hide her trouble. “Yes, but it will soon pass. Mrs. Snowdon is coming. I saw her at the hall door a moment ago. I will show her the peacocks, if you want to go. She won't mind the change, I dare say, as you don't like her, and I do.” “No, I am sure of that. It was an arrangement, perhaps? I understand. I will not play Mademoiselle De Trop.” Sudden fire shone in the girl's eyes, sudden contempt curled her lip, and a glance full of meaning went from her cousin to the door, where Mrs. Snowdon appeared, waiting for her maid to bring her some additional wrappings. “You allude to the note you stole. How came you to play that prank, Tavie?” asked Treherne tranquilly. “I saw her put it under the urn. I thought it was for Jasper, and I took it,” she said boldly. “Why for Jasper?” “I remembered his speaking of meeting her long ago, and describing her beauty enthusiastically--and so did you.” “You have a good memory.” “I have for everything concerning those I love. I observed her manner of meeting my brother, his devotion to her, and, when they stood laughing together before the fire, I felt sure that she wished to charm him again.” “Again? Then she did charm him once?” asked Treherne, anxious to know how much Jasper had told his sister. “He always denied it, and declared that you were the favorite.” “Then why not think the note for me?” he asked. “I do now” was the sharp answer. “But she told you it was for the major, and sent it.”