"I didn't flirt with him," cried Victoria, raising her head defiantly. "At least," she added, catching sight of Gartney's keen eye fixed on her, "at least, not much." "That's so like you, child," observed Aunt Jelly, disentangling her yarn, "you will play with fire--some day you'll burn your fingers." "Perhaps that catastrophe has happened already," said Eustace quickly. Miss Sheldon laughed in a somewhat artificial manner at this remark, and promptly denied it. "I'm sure it hasn't," she said, looking straight at Eustace with crimson cheeks. "I take too good care of myself for that. But talking about Mr. Macjean, how is it I have not seen him?" "I don't know I'm sure," replied Gartney carelessly; "he's only been a short time in Town, you know. I wanted him to come here to-day, but he was engaged." Victoria felt all her old hatred of Eustace revive as he spoke the last words, as she felt sure he was talking sarcastically, and would have liked to reply sharply, but she could hardly do so without betraying an unwonted interest in Otterburn, which might have placed lynx-eyed Aunt Jelly on the _qui vive_, so wisely held her tongue. Eustace himself, being satisfied that Victoria still felt an interest in his young friend, inwardly congratulated himself on the result of his diplomacy, and arose to go. "Goodbye, Aunt Jelly," he said, kissing his relative. "I'll go down home to-morrow and tell you what I've done on my return." "That's right, Eustace," said Aunt Jelly, much pleased; "have a glass of wine before you go?" "No, thank you," replied Gartney, walking to the door, "one glass is enough for me." "Weak head," muttered Aunt Jelly, "just like your father." "Better than a weak character," retorted Eustace, gaily. "_Au revoir_, Miss Sheldon. I'll tell Mr. Macjean I've seen you." "No, don't," said Victoria hastily, then, feeling that she had committed an error, strove to mend it. "I mean yes, of course I'll be very pleased to see Mr. Macjean again." "I've no doubt you will," muttered Eustace to himself, as he got into his cab; "she's still in love with him, so Otterburn has only to ask and to have." Mr. Gartney would hardly have been so confident had he seen Victoria at that moment, for she had ran hastily up to her room and was lying on her bed in a passion of tears. "He wouldn't come and see me, I suppose," she said viciously. "Oh, very well, I'll punish him for this. He's forgotten all about me, but I'll make him propose again if it's only for the pleasure of refusing him." CHAPTER XX. THE OLD HOUSE BY THE SEA.