"Is she not to wed the Earl of Dunmore?" asked Mrs. Hamilton.
"No," said I, quietly.
"La, the capricious beauty!" she murmured. "Sure, she has not thrown over Dunmore for that foolish dragoon, Kent Bevan?"
"I hope not," said I, maliciously.
"Who knows," she mused; "Mr. Bevan is to serve on Gage's staff this fall. It looks like a match to me."
"Is Mr. Bevan going to Boston?" I inquired.
"Yes. Are you jealous?" she replied, saucily.
I smiled and shook my head.
"But you once were in love with your cousin," she persisted. "On aime sans raison, et sans raison l'on hait! Regardez-moi, monsieur."
"Your convent breeding in Saint-Sacrement lends to your tongue a liberty that English schools withhold," I said, reddening.