“I 'm sure she knows you are,” said he, doggedly. “Oh, Jack, I hope this is not the way you try people on court-martial?” “It's the fairest way ever a fellow was tried; and if one does n't feel him guilty he 'd never condemn him.” “I 'd rather people would feel less, and think a little more, if I was to be 'the accused,'” said she, half pettishly. “You got that, Master Jack; that round shot was for _you_,” said he, not without some irritation in his tone. “Well,” said she, good-humoredly, “I believe we are firing into each other this morning, and I declare I cannot see for what.” “I 'll tell you, Julia. You grew very cross with me, because I accused you of being a coquette, a charge you 'd have thought pretty lightly of if you had n't known it was deserved.” “Might there not have been another reason for the crossness, supposing it to have existed?” said she, quietly. “I 'cannot imagine one; at least, I can't imagine what reason you point at.” “Simply this,” said she, half carelessly, “that it could have been no part of your duty to have told me so.” “You mean that it was a great liberty on my part--an unwarrantable liberty?” “Something like it.” “That the terms which existed between us”--and now he spoke with a tremulous voice, and a look of much agitation--“could not have warranted my daring to point out a fault, even in your manner; for I am sure, after all, your nature had nothing to do with it?” She nodded, and was silent. “That's pretty plain, anyhow,” said he, moving towards the table, where he had placed his hat. “It's a sharp lesson to give a fellow though, all the more when he was unprepared for it.” “You forget that the first sharp lesson came from _you_.” “All true; there 's no denying it.” He took up his hat as she spoke, and moved, half awkwardly, towards the window. “I had a message for you from the girls, if I could only remember it. Do you happen to guess what it was about?” She shrugged her shoulders slightly as a negative, and was silent. “I 'll be shot if I can think what it was,” muttered he; “the chances are, however, it was to ask you to do something or other, and as, in your present temper, that would be hopeless, it matters little that I have forgotten it.” She made no answer to this speech, but quietly occupied herself arranging a braid of her hair that had just fallen down. “Miss L'Estrange!” said he, in a haughty and somewhat bold tone. “Mr. Bramleigh,” replied she, turning and facing him with perfect gravity, though her tremulous lip and sparkling eye showed what the effort to seem serious cost her. “If you will condescend to be real, to be natural, for about a minute and a half, it may save us, or at least one of us, a world of trouble and unhappiness.” “It 's not a very courteous supposition of yours that implies I am unreal or unnatural,” said she, calmly; “but no matter, go on; say what you desire to say, and you shall find me pretty attentive.”