"Listening, indeed! You disturbed us with your noise--you fairly dinned it in our ears." "And just enough to make you wish for more! Oh, no, Miss Inquisitive, we will keep the secret to ourselves." "Then, it is a secret?" "A great secret--oh, very great!" said Maynadier, with assumed gravity. "Herford has the doldrums." "And you were walking him up and down the avenue to help him get rid of them?" she mocked. "Oh, kind Mr. Maynadier! I fear, Captain Herford is weary of our hospitality." "Your fears are groundless, mademoiselle," said Herford, with a bow; "the doldrums fled at the sound of your voice." "Then, you know how to banish them in future," she replied. "I would not impose----" "It is the hostess' duty to serve to her guests--and her pleasure as well, sir." "And may I--now----" extending his arm. "The doldrums fled at the sound of my voice, I thought you said?" "But they may return--whereas, to effect a permanent cure, Miss Marbury, I would prescribe a walk in the moonlight.--Sir Edward will excuse you, I know." She turned to Parkington. It was as well to leave him, now--she had done enough, for one evening. "It shall be as mademoiselle wishes," said he. She laid her hand on Herford's arm. "For a little while, then, Captain Herford, you may try the cure!" she laughed, and they moved away. "I wonder whether she was tired of me, or whether she thought you were tired of the Captain?" said Parkington. "A little of both, doubtless!" replied Maynadier--and when Sir Edward looked at him quizzically, he added, "But it is, mainly, the butterfly, which every woman has, in some degree, in her nature." "And a man has in a great degree. Talk about variety--we men are the bigger butterfly of the two. However, it served as a salve for my hurt feelings!" "Were they hurt?" asked Maynadier, amused. "What would yours be, if Captain Herford were preferred to you?" laughing. And Maynadier joined in the laugh. "He is a queer fellow," Parkington went on. "It is not exactly ill-nature; it is more of a disposition to quarrel with everything--of never being suited. In short, a chronic grumbler. He came out to me, the other morning, with the well developed intention of picking a quarrel--we would have been scraping rapiers, in a minute, if I had wished. Instead, I simply ignored his manner, and laughed him into a decent humor. Has he such a way with every one?" "Yes--we understand him, and do not mind. He is a good fellow, when you get past his eccentricities." "But one cannot be always side-stepping," said Parkington. "Some time, he will run against a man with similar tendencies--and then, there will be a little blood-letting, may be, a death." "You see, in your case," said Maynadier, "you have touched him on the raw. Miss Stirling is a tender point with him." Parkington smiled. "Which made me all the more careful to avoid trouble.--He is a good officer, I am told."