"Follow her example," simpered Miss Sallianna, looking down with blushing cheeks, and picking at her fan with an air of girlish innocence. "Could you not do as she has done—and—choose—another object yourself?"
And Miss Sallianna raised her eyes, bashfully, to Verty's face, then cast them with maidenly modesty upon the carpet.
"No, ma'am," said Verty, thoughtfully, and quite ignorant of the deadly attack designed by the fair lady upon his heart—"I don't think I could change."
In these simple words the honest Verty answered all.
"Why not?" simpered the lady.
"Because I don't think Redbud is in love with anybody else," he said;
"I know she is not!"
"Why, then, has she treated you so badly?" said Miss Sallianna, gradually forgetting her bashfulness, and reassuming her languishing air and manner—"there must be some laborious circumstance, Mr. Verty."
Verty pressed his head with his hand, and was silent. All at once a brighter light illumined the fair lady's face, and she addressed herself to speak, first uttering a modest cough—
"Suppose I suggest a plan of finding out, sir," she said; "we might find easily."
"Oh, ma'am! how?"