"Why, I told her I couldn't think of going away where I couldn't see her; that I would hare blown my brains out by this time if it weren't for her; and that I'd blow my brains out when I went home, if it weren't for the hope of fleeing her to-morrow." "The devil you did!" said I, dryly. "What! after being mittened?" "Yes," said Jack. "It was on my mind to say it, and I said it." "And how did Louie take it?" "Not well. She looked coolly at me, and said: "'Captain Randolph, I happened to be speaking sensibly. You seemed to be in earnest when you asked for my opinion, and I gave it.' "'And I was in earnest,' I said. "'How very absurd!' said she. 'The fable of the shepherd-boy who cried wolf, is nothing to you. It seems to be a fixed habit of yours to go about to all the young ladies of your acquaintance threatening to blow your brains out. Now, in getting up a sentiment for my benefit, you ought at least to have been original, and not give to me the same second-hand one which you had already sent to Number Three.' "She looked so cold, that I felt frightened. "'You're--you're--not offended?' said I. 'I'm sure--' "'Oh, no,' said she, interrupting me; 'I'm not offended. I'm only disappointed in you. Don't apologize, for you'll only make it worse.' "'Well,' said I, 'I'm very much obliged to you for your advice--but circumstances over which I have no control prevent me from taking it. There--is that satisfactory?' "'Quite, 'said Louie, and her old smile returned. "'Do you wish me to tell you what the circumstances are?' "'Oh, no--oh, don't--' she cried, with an absurd affectation of consternation. 'Oh, Captain Randolph--please. Ple-e-e-aase, Captain Randolph--don't.' "So I didn't." "Well, Jack," said I, "how in the world did you manage to carry on such conversations when the rest of the family were there? Wouldn't they overhear you?" "Oh, no. You see they were in one room at their whist, and we were in the other. Besides, we didn't speak loud enough for them to hear-- except occasionally." "So Louie didn't take offence." "Oh, no, we made it up again at once. She gave me a beaming smile as I left. I'll see her again this evening." "And the others through the day?" "Oh, yes," said Jack, with a sigh. "Miss Phillips?" "Of course--and then I get a note from Number Three, requiring an immediate answer--and then off I go to the widow, who will have a new grievance; and then, after being used up by all these, I fly to Louie for comfort and consolation." I shook my head. "You're in for it, old chap," I said, solemnly, "and all that I can say is this: Take Louie's advice, and flit." "Not just yet, at any rate," said Jack, rising; and with these words he took his departure. CHAPTER XIX. O'HALLORAN'S AGAIN.--A STARTLING REVELATION.--THE LADY OF THE ICE. --FOUND AT LAST.--CONFUSION, EMBARRASSMENT, RETICENCE, AND SHYNESS, SUCCEEDED BY WIT, FASCINATION, LAUGHTER, AND WITCHING SMILES.