Mrs. Primrose drew a deep breath. "There must be"--thus she communed with herself--"something essentially vulgar in the mind of that young man, if he can neglect a cultivated and refined young lady like Constance, and at the same time find pleasure in the conversation of a person like that." And she considered within herself whether it would not be best to warn Constance not to encourage any advances which he might in future make. On second thoughts, reflecting that his position was unquestionable, his wealth great, and that she had never heard any thing against his morals, she determined to suspend all action for the present, keeping a close watch, meanwhile, on his behavior. While Morton was thus brought to the bar in the matronly breast of Mrs. Primrose, while the jury were bringing in a verdict of guilty, joined to a recommendation to mercy, the unconscious young man was leading his companion to the supper room; where, furnishing her with a huge plate of oysters, he left her in perfect contentment. Not long after, he encountered Meredith. "How do you like your friend in the diamonds?" "She's a superb specimen; about as civilized, with all her jewelry, as a Pawnee squaw. She has a vein of womanhood, though. I saw her, in the tea room, fondle a kitten whose foot had been trodden upon, as tenderly as if it had been a child." "If you had not been so busy with her, you would have met a person much better worth your time." "Who's that?" "Miss Fanny Euston." "Do you mean that she is here?" "She _was_ here,--in that room adjoining. But she has gone; you'll see nothing of her to-night." "Will not her being here induce you to stay?" The question, as he spoke it, had a sound of frankness; but the shameful truth must be confessed, that, in spite of his friendship for Meredith, and his admiration of Miss Leslie, he was a little jealous of his friend. "No," replied Meredith, "it's out of the question. I must be off the day after to-morrow. By the way, you never told me how you liked Miss Euston." "A rough diamond, needing nothing but to be cut, polished, and set!" "It's too late, I think, for that. The polishing should have begun before eighteen. She is quite unformed, and quite unconscious of being so. I'll leave you here to fall in love with her, if you like; but if you do, colonel, you'll be a good deal younger than I take you for." There was something in his friend's tone which led Morton half to suspect the truth. Meredith had himself a _penchant_ for Miss Fanny Euston, held in abeyance by a very lively perception of her faults. CHAPTER XII. Will you woo this wildcat?--_Katharine and Petruchio_.