"Merton, don't you know--don't you believe--that I love you above everything else?" She sat erect, and stole one arm around the neck that did not bend toward her, as was its habit. "If you really loved me, you would desire to see me happy." "I do desire it, earnestly and sincerely; and there is no sacrifice I would not make to see you really happy." "Provided I selected your mode of obtaining the boon, and moreover consulted your caprices and antipathies; otherwise, my happiness would annoy and insult you." "Don't scold,--kiss me." She put up her lips, but he did not respond to the motion, and she pettishly drew his head down and kissed him several times. "How obstinate you have grown!--how harsh towards me! It is all the result of that--" She bit her lip, and her brother frowned. "Take care! You seem continually disposed to stumble very awkwardly into forbidden realms." The petted invalid nestled her pretty head on his bosom, and patted his cheek with one hot hand. "Brother, Kate Sutherland was here this morning, and left--besides numerous kind messages for you--a three-cornered note that I ordered Adele to place in your dressing-case, where I felt sure you would see it." "Yes, I saw it." "An invitation to ascend Monte Pellegrini?" "Which I respectfully decline." "O Merton! Why not go?" "Simply because I never premeditatedly, and with _malice prepense_, bore myself by joining parties composed of persons in whom I have not an atom of interest." "But Kate is so lovely?" "Not to me." "Nonsense! She was the handsomest young girl in Paris, and was the acknowledged belle of the season." "Possibly. Henna-dyed nails are considered irresistible in Turkey, but your opalescent ones attract me infinitely more pleasantly." "Pray what have my nails to do with Kate's beauty?" "Nothing destructive, I hope,--as I am disposed to think she has little to spare." "Good heavens! You surely would not insinuate that you believe or consider,--or would admit, that she is not vastly superior to--to--there, Beauty, down! She is actually dining on the fringe of my pelerine!" To cover her confusion, Constance addressed herself to the diminutive dog at her feet, and taking her flushed face in his hands, the brother looked steadily down, and answered,-- "I never insinuate. It impresses me as a cowardly and contemptible bit of plebeian practice that found favor after the royal purple was trailed in agrarian democratic dust; and lest you should unjustly impute abhorred innuendoes to me, I will say perspicuously, that the most attractive and beautiful woman I have ever seen is not your fair friend Miss Sutherland, nor any other darling of diamond and satin sheen, but a young lady whom I admire beyond expression, Miss Salome Owen." An angry flush burned on the invalid's face, and her mouth curled scornfully.