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the purpose it serves, and it was really
true enough to a certain extent. I have
been ' case-hardened ' hitherto. How long
it will last I can't say. Who knows when
his hour is come?"

Maud felt sorely tempted to say that
this was not the language of self-confidence
in which he had proclaimed it to be useless
for him to visit Marley-les-Bois, so
impossible was it that he should be enthralled;
but she refrained, feeling that it was wiser
not to prolong this discussion. Lowndes,
with provoking pertinacity, would not quite
abandon it, however. He continued:

"Why do you say the fewer attentions
you have, the better, Mary? Have you
left some disconsolate swain behind you
that makes you so obdurate? Most girls
at your age think it a very nice thing
to have an admirer, particularly a fellow
like Dapper, with silky whiskers, and
manners to match. Jove! when he hands
round the champagne, I always feel as if I
ought to be waiting upon him. There is
an affability, a condescension about him!
It is as though he said, ' I know I am
demeaning myself, but do not be afraid;
I will go through it, I will show you how
one of Nature's noblemen can play the
flunky.' Is it possible that this is lost
upon you, Mary?"

She saw he was trying to draw her out;
and the satirical play about the corners of
his mouth nettled her.

"I suppose, like some other lords of the
creation, sir, you think all women are
fools?"

"Not at all. On the contrary, I think
in many ways they are a vast deal sharper
than we are. But, as I said before, girls in
your position—"

"Cannot possibly have a grain of common
sense? Your experience, if varied, sir, has
been unfortunate, I should say. Servants,
though you might not think it, are really
not always more vain and foolish than their
betters."

"That's right; hit hard, Mary. I have
a broad back, and can bear it. So you
think me vain and foolish, eh?"

"I didn't say so, sir."

"No; but that is what you meant. Now,
I return evil for good, Mary, for I think
you are neither one nor the other. From
the first moment I saw you, I—"

"This conversation, at all events, is
very foolish, sir; there can be no doubt
about that. If you are going to talk
nonsense, I shall leave the room. Mrs.
Rouse—"

"The devil take Mrs. Rouse! Who cares
for her? If she ventures to poke in her
nose where she is not wanted, I shall send
her packing."

Maud was saved from the necessity of
making any rejoinder by the sound of
carriage-wheels, the barking of dogs, and the
ringing of the hall-door bell, which told of
Mrs. Cartaret's return. Lowndes at once
rose, and, with a few laughing words,
strolled towards the door. The act needed
no comment. Maud would have been
seriously annoyed had he remained, and his
mother found him here. Had Maud not
discouraged his staying so long by every
means in her power? Therefore she could
not but feel relieved at his departure. And
yet it hurt her pride to think that she
should be submitted to thisthat any man
should make her the amusement of half an
hour, and then leave her at the first
indication of his mother's approach.

From that day forwards Lowndes
Cartaret lost no opportunity of seeing and,
whenever he could, of talking to his
mother's new maid. It was in vain to try
and avoid him. Her place was in Mrs.
Cartaret's room, and when the young man
was not out shooting or hunting, he was
in that room, the greater part of the time.
When visitors came, and Mrs. Cartaret
was necessarily kept in the drawing-room,
if Lowndes was in the house, it invariably
happened that he strolled up into the
boudoir. His friends were gone; he
himself was due at one or two country-houses;
and yet, to Mrs. Cartaret's pleasure and
surprise, he lingered on at Beckworth from
day to day. He dined with his neighbours,
and occasionally one or other of
them dined with him: this was the only
society he had; and yet a whole fortnight
went by, and he did not seem bored, or in
a hurry to get away. No one, I believe,
up to this time, suspected the real reason
of this; and yet that reason was not far to
seek. One of those violent passions, the
growth of a few days only, which are
sometimes lasting in such men, but are far more
often transient, had taken possession of his
whole being. To use his own expression,
"his hour had come;" but he did not
recognise the fact at first. He was young,
he had strong passions, and he was but
little accustomed to self-restraint; he looked
upon this as one of those conquests which,
if less facile than any he had ever
undertaken, was not the less a pastime for the
hour. That this was no will-o'-the-wisp, but
a real fire, to which he was unwittingly