“‘Did he ask you?’ “‘Yes.’ “‘How many sets have you danced with Demar?’ “‘Two.’ “‘“Now, in the name of all the gods at once, upon what meat doth this our Cæsar feed that he is grown so great? Why, _man_, he doth bestride the narrow world like a Colossus, and we petty men walk under his huge legs and peep about to find ourselves dishonorable graves.”’ “‘If your sarcasm is intended for Mr. Demar, I beg permission to say that you might find a dishonorable grave without peeping about his legs to find it.’ “‘Oh, I crave your pardon, Miss Wallingford, I assure you I meant no offense; but candidly, I should be glad to know what Demar has done to entitle him to such distinguished privileges? How is it that this great Cæsar can monopolize the beauteous belle of the ball, while we petty men must peep about among common people to find ourselves partners?’ “‘Mr. Heartsell, it is not agreeable for me to listen to wit of this nature, because Mr. Demar has been to me a devoted friend, a true, noble, unselfish brother. Look at that scar on my wrist, if you please.’ “‘Well, I see it; what about that?’ “‘That scar was made by the poisonous fangs of a rattlesnake, and I would have died in ten minutes but that this generous, heroic brother drew the poison from my veins with his lips, and came very near losing his own life by the brave deed. Well may you compare him with Cæsar, because, while you do it in jest, I will do it in earnest, for his courage entitles him to all the honors that an inexperienced girl like me can bestow. If it should be my pleasure to grant him more favors than I do to other gentlemen, I trust I can do so without giving offense to them.’ “‘Ah, Miss Wallingford, you are an eloquent orator, and if Cæsar did have his friend Marcus Antonius to defend him, Demar has a more eloquent defender in you. I envy him, and would make any sacrifice to win such favors as fall to his share. I dare say you are quite lucky to have two such brave, good brothers as Demar and Wallingford.’ “‘Indeed, I think so, and am happy in the thought, too.’ “‘By the by, Miss Wallingford, you have lost that beautiful white rose that I saw on your throat a while ago.’ “‘You are mistaken, sir, I did not lose it.’ “‘Ah, indeed! I asked you to give it to me, and you refused; you certainly did not present it to another gentleman?’ “‘And why should I not give it to whom I pleased; was it not mine?’ “‘Hem! yes, I cannot deny that, but such partiality as that would clip an insult very close, and I am loth to believe such a charming lady as Miss Wallingford would offer an indignity to one who loves and who esteems her so highly as I do.’ “‘Now, Mr. Heartsell, I should be very unhappy if I thought I had given you any just cause for offense, but in this instance I must say it appears to me that you are manufacturing a mountain out of a mole-hill. If you desire it, I will present you with a basketful of roses this instant.’