"Is it any more serious to marry Miss Stirling, than it is to marry Miss Marbury?" asked Brandon.
"Well, in the one case, my mind was made up."
"How about the lady's mind?"
"I admit I do not know."
"Was it she in blue and pink, at the other end of the table?"
"The same—she sat next to Constable."
Brandon laughed lightly, "I am a stranger, here," he said, "but there is only one, in this company, who has any attraction for her:—the tall, grave, exceedingly good-looking man of middle age across the table. Maynadier, I think the Governor called him."
"He is only a friend of the family—the best friend, likely—nothing more."
"I am not answering as to him," said Brandon. "You are not thinking of marrying Mr. Maynadier, I take it." He pushed back his chair with the others, and arose. "Consider it—sound Miss Stirling—see if she be likely to accept. At any rate, I tell you, again, Miss Marbury is not for you—and neither is residence in Maryland."