"Ernest, you astonish me!" cried Hoffland, laughing; "address a young lady whom I have not the pleasure of knowing?"
"It would be to do her a simple service, and nothing could be more proper."
"You are a pretty guide for youth, are you not? No, sir! I never intrude!"
"Suppose this young lady were asleep in a house which was burning—would you not intrude to inform her of that fact?"
"Never, sir! Enter a lady's bower? Is it possible you counsel such a proceeding?"
Mowbray smiled sadly. "You have excellent spirits, Charles," he said; "I almost envy you."
"No, indeed, I have not," said Hoffland, with one of his strange transitions from gaiety to thoughtfulness; "I wear more than one mask, Ernest."
"Are you ever sad?"
"Yes, indeed," said Hoffland, with a little sigh.
"Well, well, I fancy 'tis not frequently. If you feel so to-day, the ball to-night will restore your spirits; and there you may restore your handkerchief with perfect propriety."