"That we are the most tenacious of that to which we have the most meagre title."
"A masculine Sphinx! speak out!" she demanded.
"Miss Read could enact Oedipus to this riddle. Seriously, Ida, beware of that woman! She courts Lacy's society. I do not know what the ladies' verdict is—to us it is as plain as that he does not like her half as well as he does you. Do not avoid him; he deserves your favor; but do nothing to uncover her eyes—blindfolded by her egregious conceit."
"Lynn! you confound me! What have I to do with Mr. Lacy! I have no interests which would war with hers, were they ever so strong. Having nothing to lose, I have nothing to fear. I am obliged to you for your brotherly cares," she added, roguishly. "A fellow-feeling makes us wondrous kind."
"You know it, then!" exclaimed he, his large eyes splendid in their flash of intelligence and rapture.
"I am not insensible or indifferent, where the happiness of my friends is concerned," she rejoined, in the same confidential tone.
Another gleam thanked her.
Ellen Morris was what is termed, a "taking girl." The high, gay spirit, which had distinguished her among her comrades at Mr. Purcell's won her distinction in a world willing to be amused. She had objectionable traits, but there was also much that was admirable and loveable about her. If her over-weening fondness for merriment offended, it was easy to forgive one, whose lively sense of the comic was inbred and irresistible. Still, it was a marvel that the impassioned Lynn should recognise in her the embodiment of his poetic dream of woman. They met before he went to Europe, and the tricksy sprite of a school-girl was not dislodged from his memory by the lures that tried him there. He came back to find a blooming maiden preserving the fresh, joyous grace which had captivated him in the child—and loved! as men seldom love—as women often do—with an abandon of affection, an upyielding of every faculty and thought to the dominion of one sentiment—a love that brings gladness to few hearts, and breaks many! many!
Had he asked Ida, with the disinterested equanimity, some suitors we wot of, display, what course she would advise in this momentous matter, she would have responded with a sister's candor, "she does not suit you—rid yourself of your entanglement;" but it was too late;—she must hope with, and for him. In payment for his cautionary remark, she hinted, that, situated as they were, misconstruction and jealousy might be formidable foes to his peace of mind:—that neither smiles nor frowns were unerring indices of a girl's heart. He scouted the implied suspicion.
"Jealous of these popinjays!" glancing disdainfully at the black coats and white vests in attendance, as if he thought they contained wound-up automata.