“Oh, Miss Keeling, you are making a mistake—on my word and honour you are!” cried the youth, earnestly. “What a beast you must think me! I know I am bad enough; but it’s not quite that. I do admire you tremendously, and so I did Miss Hervey. It’s a way I have. I don’t mean any harm; but I do delight in being rotted about it by other chaps. They are all so dreadfully afraid of being suspected to be the least bit in love, that it’s a great temptation to show them how well one can go through with it.”
“Then try to conquer the temptation,” said Georgia, promptly, although she found her fan useful to conceal a smile. “You are far too young to think of being in love yet. What you call love is merely a momentary enthusiasm. Why not wax enthusiastic over some cause, for a change, or even some man—Sir Dugald, for instance?”
“I did think a lot about him at first, but he snubbed me in such a horribly cold-blooded way,” was the reply.
“Take my advice, and think all the more of him for that. You will be thankful for it yet. And perhaps you may be thankful some day for what I have said to you to-night. My lecture was not received quite in the spirit I had anticipated, but I think you must see that the form which your enthusiasms took was not calculated to do any good to any one, and might have done harm. Happily Miss Hervey and I are both a good many years older than you are, but a young girl might have thought you were sincere, and have suffered terribly when she was undeceived.”
“It is so hard to be always thinking of what might be the consequences of everything!” lamented Fitz.
“It would be harder to have to take the consequences after refusing to think of them. You will marry some day, I hope, and would you feel you were acting fairly towards your wife if you had frittered away beforehand all the affection and devotion which were her right? Keep yourself for her.”
“Thanks awfully, Miss Keeling, for saying that. No one ever spoke to me in this way before. You will let me be friends with you, won’t you? I should like you to advise me always.”
“I can promise you more advice than you will ever think is needed. In a few years,” said Georgia, with some bitterness, “you will hate the very sight of me, because of what I have said to you to-night.”
“If I was ever such a beastly cad, I hope I should be punished as I deserved!” said Fitz, fervently.
“It is only the way of the world—of men, at any rate,” returned Georgia, as lightly as she could; but when she was alone a little later, her mind recurred to the subject, and found no mirth in it.