"You must pardon my indiscretion," resumed Mr. Cottrell; "but I really supposed that Jim must have formally announced it. Ah, Beauchamp, the very man! Spare one moment from your hospitable cares, and receive the congratulations of Miss Bloxam and myself upon the perfection of your arrangements. Everything is admirable; and if ever people deserved the favour of a gorgeous day, you and your companions have done so."
"To have won the approbation of such an expert as Mr. Cottrell is ample recompense," replied Lionel, laughing, and making a mock salaam of great humility.
"We thoroughly mean what we say; and in the meantime extend your amiability so far as to give me a cigarette. Miss Blanche, I am sure, will permit it?"
Miss Bloxam bent her head in assent as Lionel Beauchamp produced the identical cigar-case that had so attracted Mr. Cottrell's attention some two or three nights ago.
"A very pretty case this, is it not?" said Cottrell, as he leisurely selected a cigarette. "In excellent taste; it does the greatest possible credit to the designer. But it is a very curious whim of Beauchamp's to spell Lionel with a 'J.' 'J.B.,' you see, would stand for John Bradshaw, Joshua Burton, or even Jim Bloxam; but you can't possibly make 'Lionel Beauchamp' out of it."
"That will do," replied Lionel, laughing; "you chaffed me enough about this the other night. Take heed, and remember the motto."
"A motto, Miss Bloxam," said Cottrell, "the meaning of which he doth not comprehend."
"Well, I flatter myself I do," replied Beauchamp; "but no matter;" and he extended his hand for the case.
"One minute. For fear you should give some spurious version, I will translate it first for Miss Bloxam's benefit; a lady cannot be supposed to know the meaning of 'Loquaces si sapiat vitet.' Listen," continued Cottrell: "the Latin is a comprehensive language, remember,—'Si,' if; 'sapiat,' you are not a fool; 'vitet,' have nothing to say to; 'loquaces,' ladies' commissions. A wickedly cynical saying to have broidered on one's case, even if you have found ladies' commissions troublesome and productive of much inconvenience. But, dear me! Lady Mary is signalling me. I must go and see what it is she wants. Try if you can make him disclose the story of that case, and who it was that commanded him to spell Lionel with a 'J,' and not chatter about it afterwards. I plead guilty to a most horrible curiosity on that point." And so saying, Mr. Cottrell dropped the cigar-case into Blanche's lap, and crossed the deck in obedience to Lady Mary's apocryphal signal.
Blanche knew now that her presentiment was fulfilled—that the crisis had arrived; and that the next two or three minutes would decide whether she and Lionel Beauchamp were to be all in all to each other, or go their respective ways. Be that as it might, on one point she must absolve herself in his eyes. With somewhat tremulous tones, she hurriedly exclaimed, as she handed the cigar-case back to Lionel,