“Only, as Mr. Slowkopf judiciously observed, a very singular commentary on the subject we were discussing--white lies!” was the reply; and as he spoke, Ernest opened the volume he held in his hand and disclosed to the eyes of the horrified Rosebud, a certain pencil-sketch, with its tell-tale date and initials, which possibly the reader may not have forgotten as entirely as the fair artist had done. In an instant a crimson blush suffused her face and neck, and turning away her head, she struggled successfully against a strong inclination to burst into tears; recovering herself, she said hastily, and in a tone which indicated a mixture of wounded feeling and of anger-- “I consider you have insulted me, Mr. Carrington; it is most unkind--unworthy of you!” What Ernest might have replied to this especially unpleasant address, can never be known; for at that moment, Mr. Slowkopf, in an agony of digital combustion, overturned the bowl of snapdragon, and, during the confusion which ensued, Emily contrived to leave the drawing-room unobserved. For some reason or other, Ernest did not sleep very well that night; and the first thing next morning he wrote a note explanatory and apologetic, to the Rosebud, and having despatched it, sat down to finish his sermon, but got no farther than “Dearly beloved,” till the messenger returned. The answer contained his epistle unopened, and the following note:-- “Miss Colville presents her compliments to Mr. Carrington, and begs to say, that as any discussion of the occurrence of yesterday evening must be equally useless and painful, she has thought it most advisable to return his note unread. Miss Colville trusts Mr. Carrington will not allow this silly affair to influence his manner towards Miss Colville or the boys, as such an interruption to an intimacy which is so agreeable and beneficial to them, would prove a source of deep and additional annoyance to her.” Ernest was very sorry for what he had done, but he saw this was not the fitting time to endeavour to repair the breach; so being a sensible young man, he let the Rosebud have her own wilful way; and when the boys returned to school, informed Mrs. Colville he was about to prepare a volume of sermons for publication, which would occupy all his leisure hours; and that she must not think he meant to cut her, if his visits assumed the angelic property of being “few and far between;”--as he said this, he observed the Rosebud’s eyes fixed upon him with a peculiar expression in them--could it be regret? CHAPTER XIV.--CONTAINS MUCH DOCTOR’S STUFF, AND OTHER RUBBISH.